<center>https://steemitimages.com/DQmZkffvgg3XC7aymNpoSy3gtkC9YS2kx8JF5rUt4BNsACJ/IMG_7993.JPG</center>

The world looks small at 30,000 feet,
Like a toy model of an imagined land
With no concern for inequality or pain,
Just ordered patches of seeming peace. 

At 30,000 we don't think of conquest
Or subjugation for geographic dominance,
We do not see countries this far up in the air,
And we never see those borders we die for. 

A flock of humans flying through the big blue
Doesn't long to war or bait to violence,
We're all together in flight or falling,
The secret is out when we fly. 

Perhaps in the future we'll live in the sky,
Rescued from the violence of those on land,
Traveling skyward to keep a reminder
That brief is our cross and long is our hope. 

<center>https://steemitimages.com/DQmPWGHJHPLdbLReX7YsKefrc3USDf5WH78rKRAxuMQ9BWs/IMG_8004.JPG</center>
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*I'm flying away to San Diego, and planes always make me thoughtful*

*stay tuned for beautiful San Diego videos, pics and more*

<center>@prufarchy</center>
<center >images used are original</center>