Heaven, 9am
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Heaven, 9am
Like a blaring thunder roar, the runway is a constant colour of black
as the engine powers up to speed. How fast are we really going? Springs
to mind. Adrenalin is being pumped vigorously around my body, I feel
tense yet excited. My mind rushes with thoughts, ideas and questions.
The nose goes up and I fear the back end will scrap off the road. My
stomach is like a net and trapped inside is a thousand butterflies,
flapping in a state of panic to break out and regain their freedom. My
head falls heavy like a weight. Almost anaesthetized I feel dizzy and
light-headed, vision is distorted, my mind swishes like there's an
ocean in storm inside.
A surprise greets my eyes. This is what I imagined heaven to look like.
An everlasting space with fluffy, pure white clouds and a sense of
peace, calmness and tranquillity. I so desperately wanted to experience
an encounter of the spirit kind as I peered through the miniature
window.
I look below, my eyes expand and my lids wide as the clouds grow
sparingly. I see an ocean so vast and an array of blues and
greens.
Tiny white dots no larger than the head of a pin catch my attention. I
assume they are boats resting on the waters surface.
Only metres above me lies a thick constant line of what looks like
cloud floating but is of the spray which was released from the
artificial bird that soared the skies. It drifts motionless in mid air;
it gives the distinct impression that it won't droop or fall. So what
happens to the aeroplane mist? Does it blend in with the passing clouds
and disguise itself, or slowly disintegrate like its presence never
even existed?
It's funny how everything seems so slow moving. Clouds swift by yet the
reality is we are racing along like the speed of sound.
Physically you are reminded of the velocity for you sense your ears
being muggy.
In the heavenly place were we rest upon, lies is a sheet of fleecy
cotton wool like material. The clouds shimmer when the sun shows it's
friendly all welcome face. Whiter than white, more pure than snow, like
nothing I have ever seen before. So silky smooth to the eye, like a
picturesque photo with an abundance of soft focus effect. Difficult for
the eye to pick up. Sparingly scattered is a variety of shades of grey
and silver adding a little interest to the scenic picture.
Strange to witness the pointed wing spear through the clouds. You
imagine that the clouds would be sliced into tiny pieces but
miraculously, they remain intact, like a feather that was used instead
has just softly cut it's way through.
As clouds hold moisture, I find myself bemused as to why do the wings
come out dry? I come to the conclusion that with the force we are going
at immediately dries up and residual water.
As I survey the world below, it appears gigantic. Countless fields of
green and brown, patches of forest lie here and there. Houses in there
hundreds positioned together and separate. Little spots are animals
grazing gracefully in the fields.
With all this space, just imagine how enormous the world really is and
how tiny, insignificant and diminutive we are.
You wish this to become a life changing experience. It puts your life
into perspective. You evaluate all those worries and all those fears,
how they simply disappear.
With all this land, who are we anyway? Why should we deprive ourselves
of opportunities that will improve our lives in some way? The world is
a huge place with golden opportunities in it for the taken, so reach
out your arm, extend is as far as possible and grab unto not one or
two, but as many as humanly possible. What is there to stop us, our
worries, our fears? Take an in-depth look around you; are they really
what they seem anymore?
As the plane tilts on its side we fly closer to the land, all that was
tiny magnifies 1000\%. In some form those golden opportunities, which
are a must to grasp, are magnified too. Suddenly it appears to me that
we are not as tiny and insignificant as we were that high up. We have a
life to use it best we can so take this journey to think of our lives
and what we shall do to improve them. With only a matter of time
ticking away for the plane is about to land, use this experience to
reflect on what we have and just what we can have. Expand our choices;
expand our minds, our happiness and our quality of life.
I squint as the heavenly sun bounces off all areas of the plane's
interior. It's amazing to see the effect of the reflection of the sun
swim along the wings. I feel heat in patches as it warms parts of my
body for it feels cold as a result of having to stiffly sit in the same
place.
Like a busy road the skies are honking. In front I see another big
bird. Because of the distance I perceive it as the model aeroplane your
little brother owned and had lots of magical adventures with.
Visualise this. The plane transforms and becomes a powerful large bird.
You are a tiny person inside looking out at the world. You see the land
from its eyes. You are positioned at the rear of the bird.
Your role as its rear is that of an important one. You keep the bird
balanced upright, you are the steady weight. As you gaze out the window
within the bird, you see it's mighty wings steering and supporting the
entire body. Strange this is to imagine for you associate the wings of
a bird to be coated in soft, fluffy feathers, yet this big bird is bald
and cold. No life beats or breathes in this flying machine except for
the lives that are seated inside.
There is no other magical, exhilarating experience greater than
this.
We have reached our destination. The once so pleasant view of gentle
colours and all that was natural, now in sight a land of crowded,
bunged together houses and nuisance buildings. From Seas, rivers and
lakes so blue, to those so filthy, soiled, unclean. We fly over the
river Thames. Impressive on the screen in your favourite Soap, but
polluted and brown to the real honest eye.
The air appears stuffy and impure, an unfortunate difference to the
fresh cool air of my homeland.
The plane has now landed, a soft easy flight, bumpy landing and we
swerved on our side. Dismal is the surroundings, Oh how I can't wait,
to go back to my homeland, filled with beauty and flourishment. I don't
want my memories of that place to fade, so I'll leave soon before it
gets too late. Artificial, not organic would sum up my view on
arrival.
The only thing I see not to be fake or plastered over, something that
will always remain real. No man could ever build on this; no genius
artist could ever create a breathtaking masterpiece. This natural
creation I speak of is the skies above and all that is in it. No matter
where you are in the world, the sky will forever be there for you to
have the delight of looking up at its magnificence.
Your mind could never erase the experience your eyes soak up whilst on
a plane. So I suggest the next time you see a bird of any description,
look into its eyes and you will see, a magical adventure it has the
honour of taking each and every day.
There is something fascinating about watching a plane make its way to
the sky, it is almost unreal to see. You cannot imagine how such a
magnificent, genius invention can operate. What caught my eye was how
soft and elegant the light of the sun glided across its back. You can't
understand the speed of an aircraft whilst in flight, its only when you
are on land looking up. That is when you witness the intense speed and
power. It amazed me to see how it gets from one end of the sky to the
other in seconds. You can't help but be observant at such a creation.
Beautiful its design and d?cor it may not be to the fussy eye, but you
can not ignore its rapidity, its ease and grace as it glides through
our skies.
This country is unfamiliar to me and completely different in structure.
My subconscious refuses to accept it and make it a bit of my own so as
I can adjust to my visiting. Even the brick they use to build the
houses with repulses me and I feel within myself. Oh how the clouds
seem so far when once so near, at fingers length and the intensity of
the sun so changed, not in temperature but in effect.
This land is scattered with greenery but in few, not fresh and bright
but polluted and dull. I hear the land cry as it begs to grow, spread
and flourish. Yet man cuts down and destroys, killing the spirit of
nature. My regular visit to this land would not feel as peculiar and
ghastly as it does; only my visit is never a pleasant one.
The village hospital awaits me; I have so much fear, for years I have
been coming, the message is clear. I must have these check-ups, needles
and all, it prevents my death, the heavenly call. Yet my views of this
place is much pleasant in returning, for the tests are now over and my
stomachs stopped churning.
Now I can go home, to my sweet ole land, I wish only this, that I can
hold it in my hand. I wish not to think badly of where I am, I'm sure
here is beautiful, I could feel so calm. I'd like to take a trip of my
own, where hospitals and tests were not such a moan. If I succeed in
smiling at this place, at the end of the day, my heart will forever
belong in my usual space. It's like the way the saying goes " You can
take the girl out of the country, but you can't take the country out of
the girl".
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