High Flight

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Today, remembering a poem that touched me back in my aviating days, I was even more moved to learn that the author, John Gillespie Magee, composed it as a 21 year old RAF pilot just months before his death in combat during the early days of WWII.
I am struck by the seeming paradox that we humans are capable of using technology to experience both the sublime and the savage in us all.
May we learn to choose more wisely.

High Flight

Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of Earth
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I’ve climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
of sun-split clouds, — and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of—wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov’ring there,
I’ve chased the shouting wind along, and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air….
Up, up the long, delirious, burning blue
I’ve topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace
Where never lark nor even eagle flew—
And, while with silent lifting mind I’ve trod
The high untrespassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.
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