What if our souls, after so many, many flights, never return to our bodies?
What if I never really got off that plane in 2008 from Tokyo?
What if I never left that ferry to Gibraltar?
What if I never stepped drunk from that train into the Serbian night in 1994 and never got turned back?
What would I know? Who would I be?
What if you never met me in Vancouver in September?
So much of everything would be different.
But you did; and I did all of those things, too.
I love vapour trails and looking up and thinking about the origin and destination of those planes and the passengers; all headed somewhere they were needed or even loved.
I wonder if they have had dinner yet or are wondering outside their view? Who is watching them fly past?
I am, on those clear Alberta skies.
And blowing kisses, too.
Because landing is the best thing ever.