"Sometimes, the world from above seems too beautiful, too wonderful, too distant for human eyes to see, like a vision at the end of life forming a bridge to death.” -Charles Lindbergh
Ascend from the earth, beneath and below
through the clouds, to the stars, to that heavenly glow.
A foolish belief that one man could fly,
From New York to Paris, over ocean, through sky.
Because surely the thought crossed everyone’s mind,
Voiced the skeptics and scoffers, “This wasn’t the time.”
No companion, no copilot, and only one engine,
Set him up for disaster, worse than one could imagine.
And away went that plane as his fate cruelly twisted,
Lost control despite all that he did to resist it.
Not because he was tired, weak-hearted, or faint,
But rather because his soul longed to awake
To the glory of heaven, that he could not descend,
But rather shook hands with his heavenly friends.
So far from fear that he never considered,
The weight of the words, so harsh and so bitter.
The headline that read he didn’t make it to Paris,
But fell to the ocean, to the depths of Atlantis.
No evidence or sight, just a strange disappearance,
But for him no pain, thanks to Nature’s forbearance.
So the legacy drops and satisfies the cynics,
Until another picks it up to resume the resistance.