I have always loved this poem. It describes the beauty of a journey of spirit, though it was written about the freedom of physical flight. The poem was composed by John Magee, a Spitfire pilot serving with the Royal Canadian Air Force, at the beginning of the Second World War. He was 19 years old when he wrote it, and still 19 when he died.
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.
Hovering 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, or 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.
The evocative images of this beautiful poem remind me of realms of spirit and soul where time and space do not constrain, where love is the fundamental quality of all interactions and beauty is the fabric of reality. In those realms there is no pain or malice, only an underlying peace and the understanding that all is well.
I will leave here to go there, I know, when it is time. But I’m not done here yet. I have learning to experience, growth to celebrate, teaching and healing and loving still to do here.
So I choose to be happy in the face of my own pain and limitations. I choose to welcome sorrows into my house as Rumi does, to make them my friends and teachers.I am loved and supported from other realms, and with that knowledge I know that all is well here too.
