Tuesday, July 26, 2016

Paper planes

Some September night

What seems like eons ago

Like a dream where you were my mother

We pressed paper to paper

And folded our memories

Into the futures that were not to take place

Perhaps more militant

We constructed the craft

And let them loose

Like so many words

Like so much rage

When you let them loose

They have no choice but to fly

We folded the pages

bookmarks of respective origami  

creases in our various styles

and made bets on who could stay airborne longer

you lamented never joining the air force

but taught me the fundamentals of aerodynamics

and I,  internalized them

I mastered the folds

Where we let so many planes loose

The creases holding up to the elements

Their shapes contorting to my will

Preconceived with the ailerons

Commanded through planning and design

Framed with the failure

Of a misfolded wing

Or a well-place nosedive

we picked them up

smoothing out the damages

and repaired and replaced and rebuilt

and let fly.

I remember a dark blue sky

With violet clouds

The falling sun

We crushed the edges of a poster into place

it flew magnificently

“it doesn’t matter how big or heavy it is” you said.

“…anything will take flight.”

And I sit pressing the paper

Afraid in this moment

Of the magnitude

of the paper

that I am willing to let fly

how deeply we know of irreversibility

and yet

 I know exactly what you would say:

be brave.

Be Brave.

And I feel it slip from my hand

like the first firebomb into the police

that huge plane on that summer night

the words slipping from thought

Into this irreversible reality

Learning to let go

I’m ready for so many things

to take flight

No comments:

Post a Comment