Seat D30: A Poem

If you’ve ever been on an airplane, you know they can be uncomfortable things. If you’re a passenger, you have the privilege of arriving an hour or more before your flight, hustling through security (hopefully without getting pulled aside and patted down. Awkward!), searching for your gate, waiting to get on the plane, all so you can sit in an uncomfortable seat for at least an hour in a pressurized container with recycled air. If you’re fortunate, you won’t get stuck behind a crying baby, in front of a restless child kicking your seat, or near somebody who’s sick. (The latter of which doesn’t, ultimately matter. I did mention it was recycled air right?

But don’t let me put you off flying! I thoroughly enjoy travelling. I really do. And flying often is the most convenient, even if it’s not the most comfortable, way to do it. I can’t count how many times I’ve flown, but I remember flying all by myself for the first time at age 14 and was quite comfortable with doing so. Today, international travel for me is a breeze! (As long as you don’t check your luggage, don’t wear bejeweled pants/shirt/belt, ensure you have all your liquids separate, etc., etc.)

Perhaps the most interesting thing about international flights are the views, and I’m not just talking about the transatlantic ones where you get a mini TV. No, by far, the best views are the ones of foreign countries—the coastline of England, the rolling hills of Ireland, the rivers of Germany, and the Alps of Austria and Switzerland. Oh, the Alps? How can I describe the majestic beauties?

I’ve always found myself in awe of mountains, having lived in both Washington State and Hawai’i, but nothing can compare to the Alps, as far as I’ve seen anyway. I’ve had the privilege of driving through them, biking through them, and just admiring them the day I turned 18. So you can image what a change of perspective flying over them was. Even though everything seems so much smaller, the mountain range couldn’t diminish in beauty. It just reminded me of how small and insignificant the human race can seem.

Seat D30

Have you ever felt the pulse of the earth?

Like waves in the ocean, a jagged storm,

tumultuous ripples in the powdered pie crust

pulsing beat after beat after beat in the monitor.

The claws of the soil press upward,

cutting through the green-and-white glaciers like an orange peel,

cracking, ripping, groaning.

The engines howl as the pregnant mountains kick

in a frozen snapshot of miniscule grandeur.

A silver jet putters like a slug,

streaking her filth over the mist,

the smudge on Her rounded belly.

A flash in a crevice, a sidewalk crack

down, down below whispers we are mere atoms, the salt in the crust.

The moon whirls overhead, caught in time,

like an electron, positive that her silver pimples are not alone.

***

What’s your favorite mountain range? What awe-inspiring sights have you experienced?

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