The world is a blur below me.
Green of every shade acts like a carpet.
Concrete veins connect the modern world.
We are clouds now.
No longer men, we are now more angels than our human selves.
In the distance, a thin blue line behind me.

We are leaving behind all we knew.
This plane is destined for something new.
Crossing the Atlantic, we are to be born again.
All that was is becoming smaller and smaller now.

Soon, feet will be freshly placed where few have dared to go.
Far from a burden, this is more like a revelation.
What encompassed the thin blue line is a world away.