Soft Seat

Photo courtesy of ALTARWORK

Strap me into the soft seat of life and lift off.

Climb the altitude, break invisible barriers between body and soul. Observe tender flicks of humanity and the altar of holy.

The bold, bare head of the stewardess, delicate features of her face, dark, bright eyes speaking into mine, powder lilac against her lids.

Patterns of earth miles below, patched by plume of cloud shadow. Tree lines arch their way around blocks of green, rift of river snaking through land pulled tight.

In between places—bordering states, lines blurring as space stretches small from so high above. Transcending borders in light, cloak hung welcoming around the atmosphere.

Breath at thirty thousand feet. Heartbeat prone to propellers, lull of engine ruffling lungs rising in the body of an iron giant.

Sun gentle through the glass, reflecting the faces of passengers; blinking breaks sacred, lick of lips liquid light, rumble of throat breaking courtesy introduction—the shattered silent barrier. Shift of skin crinkles as they subconsciously settle closer to one another.

My pale hand holding pen, fingers turned gently, folded in. Ink streams blue on page, letters swirl into sentences, world of words glide in arrangement.

Ear posed to hear Whom my heart seeks, softening me with pressing into the flesh of my faith, nudging me to find the gaze of grace nestled in crevices unknown to those who merely use their mind in upright reason.

We coast through the dark space spanning still in wait. Pull forward imperceptible on airstreams, movement a glide on air like ice. Letting go, sway of surrender while beverage cart rattles, tucked in for the day next to dangling thoughts untouched as preparation for decent creeps close.

Read this post at ALTARWORK here!