What is that phenomenon overhead?

 Why do I amaze to speculate on star-like objects so emblazoned?

 Sporting shape of diamond on the underbelly of closest jet?

 With caution lumens flashing red to white?

 Warning off eternal air traffic in this too-blue February night sky.

Cannot go dark for ground proliferation dulls point of celestial objects,

Rather, jetliner traffic melds with glistening city lights so intense

Rivaling even the brightest star...

All this while I long for the embrace of darkness,

Warmth kindled to feel

As familiar as my Montana mountain forests.

Would they truly wrap me in tranquility?

All this I wonder, as I stand contemplating once again,

Glancing up to observe an outbound flight climbing higher

While incoming transports merge into view.

Can I see them or am I imagining, so many souls passing incognito?

Tourists seeking the Capitol of Leisure, the city whose only intent

Is to satiate eternal seekers of pleasure?

Is this why I stand now on steaming soil looking up,

Knowing I am content

Yet still looking toward faraway places?

Presently, I feel no movement of strings connecting me to souls,

Or scenes of rectitude.

Can it be seemly to visualize countenances lost in dreams?

Or am I truly as those faces pressed to glass,

Gazing down;

Merely row upon row thinking theirs will come true,

Once they land;

Perhaps it is true, as so long quoted,

‘Pleasure seekers have no leisure’?

Sirius is the brightest star!

Is that why I am so serious?

Is my life a supersonic flight?

And this yearning the fuel

To power me into the atmosphere?

© Sue Wilson Thompson 2006