Your Flight Has Landed Poem by A.N. Bor.

Your Life; An Airplane.

You board, find your place.
Take off.
You're traveling somewhere, far away.
Where, doesn't matter right now.

Trouble appears: The screaming child
In the seat behind yours
Kicks your back, pestering you.
Pestering.
You want to end it, but you can't.
You'll just have to wait it out.

The flight attendant approaches.
Would you like anything?
Yes, Peanuts.
Sorry, we're out of Peanuts.
You compromise; the Chips will do.
Not exactly what you'd hoped for,
But satisfactory.

A man sits beside you.
He seems familiar, for some reason.
He nods,
You nod.
A light acknowledgement, nothing deep.

You glance out your window, to your uncertain future.
The plane is deep in clouds. All is white.
You can't see ahead, no matter how hard you try.

The child kicks, yet again.
You'd almost forgotten about him,
But you're use to it by now.

You yawn, fall asleep. Blackness, Nothing.

Nothing.

The pilot's voice awakens you,
His assuring tone coming from somewhere ahead.
'We will be landing Soon.'
His voice seems somehow familiar,
But that's impossible, right?

Your Flight Has Landed
Finally Landed.

You glance at the man beside you. Recognition!
Grins, hands shaken.
How could you have ever forgotten him?

You stand, stretch your legs,
Finally see the child. So young.
You smile at him, all forgiven.

You reach for your luggage, the things you carried with you.
They're gone! Lost, somewhere behind.
Panic, then calm, as you realize,
Those things mattered, once,
But not anymore.

You thank the Flight Attendant, as you debark.
You want to thank the pilot as well,
But he is still ahead, in the cockpit.
You can't go there, can you?

You step off the plane, to Somewhere.
Where, matters now.
As you walk into your future, you wonder,
Who was the Pilot?


Who is the Pilot?