Looking out a huge window here at the airport in Hong Kong,
mountains looming in the near distance, beckoning to my
soul at an interior level.
Finding them to be spiritual as they lie in wait while I
continue to look at them, imagining climbing them, just
below me is the airport tarmac.
Everyone is working like busy bees to prepare airlines for
their flights to take off, a lovely and respectful young
lady has just escorted me to gate four, leaving for LAX in
fifteen minutes.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem