Impressions of a Pilot
After Gary Claude Stoker
Flying is freedom in its purest form,
To dance with the clouds which follow a storm;
To roll and to glide, to wheel and to spin,
The feeling of joy that swells from within;
Leave earth far below its troubles and fly,
Knowing the warmth of a clear spring sky;
Then back to earth at the end of a day,
Released from the tensions which melted away.
But should my end come while I am in flight,
On bright summer day or dark winter night;
Spare me your pity and shrug off the pain,
Secure in the knowledge I'd do it again;
For each one of us is created to die,
And within me I know, I was born to fly.