I hear the sound of an aeroplane
Slicing through the silence.
It speaks of comings and goings,
Of partings and reunions.
The one full of sadness
The other full of joy.
It speaks of holidays in other places,
The mystery and magic of the newly discovered.
Vivid impressions of a first encounter
With people, places, smells, and language.
I think of the miracle of invention.
The first certainty that flight
In a machine was possible.
I marvel that the weight of so
Many people, baggage, cargo, metal
Can stay up there and not come
Down as does a ball when thrown aloft.
Mankind never ceases to amaze with
New and daring thoughts painstakingly
Realised to move life on another notch.
The inspiration surely comes like arrows
From the Universe directly to the waiting minds
Open to receive such innovative thoughts.
How many inspirational arrows fall
On stony ground before hitting the mark
Transforming into what we call
In our ignorance, Genius.
May such arrows never cease to aim
And find their mark, and may one
At least be labelled ‘Peace on Earth
Goodwill to Men’.
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