I find myself praying more these days
Looking skyward at the roar of a jet
And spotting in the blue, a black silhouette
Of an airliner, cutting through the haze.

While this flight above is full of strangers,
In these troubled times, no lifes enchanted
Or immune from harm; nothings for granted,
So I ask they be kept from all dangers.

Thats my request for this passing jet plane,
That every precious life on board
Climbing to the clouds, moving toward
Heaven, is there to visit, not to remain.

09/28/2001

Posted on 09/28/2001
Copyright © 2026 Bruce W Niedt