Mar 05 2003

Flying

Flying

 Remembering first rays of the sun in the morning, lighting the clouds from below,
Or observing the world from above, slowly changing from day to night,  

You can not imagine what I have seen.

The tantalizing cool blue water of the Keys,
The ground, white like snow, with flowering dogwoods in the Atlanta spring, 
The sparkling emerald green of fish farms in Mississippi,
The outline of the hazy Smokey Mountains from a mile high.

The thrill of flying above a beach with strangers waving hello.

You can not imagine what I have seen.

The pleasure of leaving the dreary, rainy surface and discovering a gloriously clear blue sky lies above a sea of soft white clouds,
The beauty of a clouds outlined in the brightest silver,
Clouds streaming beams of light, gently touching the earth, the fingers of God.
The gental softness of clouds as you dip your wings in them,
or flying between angry layers of clouds fleeing a hurricane.

Single rainbows, double rainbows, circular rainbows with a silhouette of my plane in the center.

Blood red sunsets that last for just a few short minutes and are gone forever in a blink of an eye.

Year around, cities and towns are dressed for Christmas at night,
The thrill, the beauty, the terror of helpless racing toward lightening at night,
Shooting stars as they fall from heaven.

As the earth slowly revolves under my floating eyes,

I thank God for giving me wings to fly and allowing me to see what he only shares with a few.

Nick Ugolini
Mar 2003