Saturday, August 24, 2013


Sudden elevation loss ratchets reactions.

Stomach lurching, churning, tossing, turning.
Quick, hot flush of adrenaline rush.
Riveted focus, startled rapt attention. 
Shallow, rapid breathing.
Blood pounding in temples and wrists.
Hands grip arm rests; back arches backwards.

Images of plane dropping downward out of sky toward land or water.
TV news scenes of broken plane parts strewn across long distances,
Luggage scattered, limbs ripped from bodies, shoes without feet.
Terrified relatives await life-or-death information with rigid bodies,
Brows furrowed, eyes downcast or darting, cheeks streaked with tears.

Is this just a moment? 
How long will this last?
Will we pull out of this?
Is this it? 
Is it time for me to die?
Will I survive and be disabled and in pain?
What will it be like to plunge down out of control?
When will I realize we are crashing?
How long will it last?
Will I scream or pray?
Will I reach out to others?
Who will I think about?
What parts of my life will flash forward?

Crises bring everything into immediate question.
Priorities focus, racing and surging to surface.

Chaos averted, plane levels off.
Relief to have another chance.

Accept that gift and run with it!

Ann Beth Blake
(c) August 24, 2013

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