SOMETIMES YOU HAVE TO LOOK HARD TO FIND HAPPINESS
Before I was born, my dad was an ag pilot.
He traded freedom and flight for
responsibility and safety and John Deere parts.
we often went for Sunday drives in the country
to get out of town and look at the crops.
he borrowed a plane and we slipped the surly bonds of earth*
and flew over the faded quilt of fields.
the flight pattern of our small town airport
went right over our back yard.
One summer, I planted a smiley face of marigolds
for the pilots to see
as they came in on final.
©Mary Lee Hahn, 2015
* "slipped the surly bonds of earth" is from my dad's favorite poem "High Flight" by John Gillespie Magee, Jr.
Here's John Denver singing the poem as a song (scrub to 3:25). We played this at dad's funeral.
Carol, at Carol's Corner, will join me again this year as often as possible.
Kimberley, at iWrite in Maine, is joining me this month.
Kay, at A Journey Through the Pages, is joining, too!
Steve, at inside the dog, is sharing his poems
in the comments at Poetrepository.
Heidi, at my juicy little universe, will join us when she can.
Linda, at TeacherDance, will join as often as she can.
Check the comments at A Year of Reading or Poetrepository for her poems.
Kevin (Kevin's Meandering Mind) is back this year,
leaving poetry trax in the comments.
Carol, at Beyond Literacy Link, is writing alongside us when she can.
She finds happiness in family.
Jone, at DeoWriter, is doing a "double L" challenge.
She and I are cross-poLLinating our challenges whenever possible.
"traded flight and freedom" Wow. These are powerful words, and a powerful sacrifice, too. I have a very soft spot in my heart for dad-poems these days, as I've been watching my father's illness take more and more of him. Thank you for this reminder to find (to plant!) happiness in the nooks and crannies of a life. Beautiful.ReplyDelete
Here's my poem this morning. A cup of coffee in hand I have time enough to watch the world wake up. Strange how something so old can seem so new.ReplyDelete
So sweet the air this morning,
filled with the green
of grasses bursting from
the damp, cool earth,
the imploring call of the toms
across the valley; more, too,
the phoebe, just now,
who is building a
mossy nest on the ledge I
placed under the shed eaves.
All of these in the half-light
this morning, this
sweetness, so fresh,
Such a celebration of morning. I love "this sweetness/so fresh, so ancient." Those last two words are such a surprise.Delete
Lovely. I was right there with you!Delete
Such quiet beauty to start the day.Delete
What a different perspective, Mary Lee.ReplyDelete
And I'm sure those bright orange/yellow faces brought laughter from the air aces.
See, this is what a poem is for...to take a person who thinks she knows quite a lot about the world and put her down in a whole different landscape with a whole different way of seeing it, from above and under at the same time. THAT is a happiness.ReplyDelete