On flying and time zones and dark nights of the soul


When flying through the air–miraculously–in a chunk of engineered metal,
It strikes one that, although we will be in flight for two and a half hours,
Still we will arrive only one hour later.

Such is the way the world tilts and
The speed of the plane and
The angle of the sun.

What, then, if we could fly forever-!-
Outpacing the setting sun, our faces
Ever racing towards

It is said.

That we grow the most
When it is night.

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