05
Mar
10

Though I can not sleep, I dream

Almost

Without fail,

Upon reaching cruising altitude,

My thoughts turn-

Or return-

To the lives below

That are woven

Into mine

And mine

Into theirs.

Somewhere

In the shapeless darkness

Unfolding below,

My loves live and breathe,

Going about their routines-

My wife is likely

Curled up on the couch,

Resting

Before driving to the airport

To collect me,

And my daughter-

The one already

In this world-

Is either slowly

Eating her dinner

Or taking a bath

Before bed

In her mother’s home.

Swimming

In her mother’s womb,

My unborn daughter

Is most probably

Kicking my wife’s ribs

And preventing her

From real rest.

Another

Very long day

Of airports

And planes

Is creeping

To an end

At 27,000 feet.

Though I can not

Sleep,

I dream of them

And look forward

To once again being

With them

And dreaming

With my eyes closed

In my own bed.

Timothy Vance Jackson

March 3, 2010

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