Flying Over Nebraska When the Exile Is Over–Ode to My Home

“Rivers”

Thin, spidery veins–tributaries–snake across the land, now iron grey in the setting sun.
They stand in defiance against the settlers’ attempts to tame the land in a patchwork of square blocks and narrow strips of green forestry.
Source of life–Midwestern Star of David, guide human existence, give birth to the race on your shores.

“Sky”

Firm earth, meet infinity.
Kiss forever and quiver at its expansiveness, at your vulnerability/mortality.
Open wide your embrace O earth and surrender.
Lofty prayers reflected and answered in your promise of unending.

“Cities”

Tiny clusters of magnesium orange light break the monotony of endless darkness.
Lights wink and hint at the life sprawled across the prairie–
Macrocosms of the abundance undetectable at this height.

“Streets”

Cars move along single-file, like fluorescent ants on a path to sustenance.
This is how the veins of a nation of builders crawls along and moves the world.

Marin–12/28/13 flying over Omaha, NE after not having been home for over a year.  Written through tears of happiness and inspired by a bursting heart.

Home

I miss being near the earth.

I miss that fertility and life–the endless cycle of creation, destruction, and rebirth.

You feel so humble living near to that.

And the stars.  They feel so close.

I swear when I look up in the sky at home, I feel like I’m living past, present, and future all at once.

I am both alive and dead.

Infinite and finite.