Take Your Time


People are eating dinner
on the other side of the
mesh curtain. They have
paid a premium;
we aren’t allowed
to disturb them by visiting
the front facilities.

Through the grey scrim
I see rolls and butter
and now some sort
of cake, layered with cream.

A hand gently and carefully lifts
a fork and then returns it to the
plate. Things have slowed down.

There is no place to go now
even in first class. We can relax.
Our seats on the plane have become
monk’s cells. Each of us sitting
silently in our places, letting things

Take your time while you can.
Savor the precious moments
of emptiness. Be curious about
what might arise when in a
moment of surrender, you’ve
impossibly agreed to sit in
a silver tube hurling you
through the sky at 500
miles per hour. At such a speed
You’ve no choice but to stop.