Flight Poem by B H Fairchild

Gosh this gave me incredible chills. It reminded me of an idea (not my own of course) how time might exist everywhere simultaneously, so that in other parts of the universe (or whatever term you would choose) , time keeps flowing, and the past is still alive in those other parts- otherwise, how could it still feel so near and present all the time, as if straining below the surface of apparent things.

Another amazing poem. You have such talent.