Pilots are inexorably tied to weather. Under certain conditions, it would be certainly hazardous to fly. One day, when I was working at Edwards, one of my pilots was standing and staring at the weather. I stopped to watch him. It was so organic. His entire being was going up there, and he wanted to understand it, that day, to it’s fullest. The weather report would not be enough. Like a businessman reading the file on a prospective client, like an HR person reading about a prospective hiree, a farmer looking to see if it’s time to plant and of course, a sailor wondering where the prevailing winds will take him.
Just remember, if you crash because of weather, your funeral will be held on a sunny day. – Layton A. Bennett
You stood there and gauged the patterns of air,
the clouds and the turbulence. Yet, the wind,
not robust enough to tousle your hair,
was able to make clarity rescind.
To and fro your eyes scanned the perilous
landscape. In your mind, a scenario
evolved, with way too many mischievous
heroics to feed your growing ego.
Then you pitched up into the nasty sky
as if you were controlling the weather.
Regardless of the conditions up high,
you would return on wing without feather.
Thus, as each day goes by in your young life,
you reappear to your offsprings and wife.
I am responding to the prompt, “Write about a memorable encounter relating to work .”
POETICS: Workin’ For It
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in the midst of constant multi-tasking, you stab unity.
battle lines redefined.
set in a destructive path,
in the seat of your pants.
new density patterns are exemplified with complexity.
spatial dynamic swirls,
organize in technicolor.
contractual textures machines take you into darkness.
busy angels guard you silently.
you scream and pray
as you head deeper
into an inescapable hell.
the song drones on. you shatter. shatter. shatter.
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Come fly with me – Prompt # 139
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challenge – “action”
Picture Credit Tate Museum.