Poems in the UK- No. 2

Here's another poem I wrote on our UK visit in 2003. As I said in my last post, Malcolm was so excited about the plane journey- and I wasn't. It turned out that I wasn't so bad- in fact I asked the Dr for advice and followed it faithfully. I got on the plane, ate my meal an hour later. Took an antihistamine tablet that made me drowsy. Fell asleep. Drooled and snored [much to the embarassment of Malcolm] and woke up about an hour before we landed in LA- our half way stop. Mal on the other hand, went into silent panic mode. He soon came to realise what cabin fever is, and that he actually was claustrophobic on those long haul flights. For the rest of that time in the UK, he had to learn to overcome this. I coped with making jokes about it, including teasing him about me sucking up all the air in elevators etc- mean aye! It turns out, it was just that trip, as the next UK one- he was fine. He now has learned that you just need to place your anxieties into God's hands, and to know what to expect and how to manage this when in that situation. From the whole thing, it made me more aware of how we breath, and how we take air for granted. Totally. It's there, and so vital- and we don't even think about it. But when we think we're not going to be able to have it, or have enough of it- it can send us into panic mode. Guess it's a bit like our relationship with God...hmmm....

Breathe

Air

Something we cannot see

Yet take for granted

That it is there

For us

We need it
Want it

Cannot be without it

It is the last thing we take in of this

Place we call home

Earth

When we can take no more

We can be no more

Air

Breathe

And be thankful for what it is

For  what it does

For who we are

Because of it

Everything we think we need

Our desires

What drives us

Is already

Is

Air