An Airplane Poem by Patti Masterman

An airplane flying overhead
Is vibrating some things in my house,
As they all tap their mechanical, molecular fingers;
Speaking in a sort of rapid fire morse code
Repeating their distinctive call sign, shaking the maracas
Of their cosmic strings, in accord with the seismic rhythms
Of some huge and distant oscillating jet engines
And I feel my own spine too, like a uninhibited dancing skeleton,
The kind you see dangling near doors on Halloween;
Trying to jump up, to join in that seductive harmonium of frequency;
And the floor beneath doing it's own rendition of an impending quake,
The dishes vibrating noisily, wherever they touch one another
Sort of like a 'free love for all' moment.
While above, clueless passengers stare out of their tiny windows
Amid the apparent nothingness of more and more clouds
Horizons stretching to furthest limits; graceful curve of Earth
While themselves sensing an airless movement beyond reach
Of gravity, on seamless oceans of pure intention
Or maybe they doze fitfully, with the traveler's acute exhaustion
Unaware that for a moment the flatland beneath them
Had a rendez-vous with something soaring freely through only air
Unconnected locally by any visible means;
Still some invisible thread was making felt it's contact.
And how many more things go undetected down here
As we go about, busy in our formidable brains
Only allowing those things access
That seem pertinent and timely.
The world's resonance is it's own purest beauty
Set free as the first spinning atoms
Found one another's gyrations: but only by mistake.