People seated
Row by row
Packed in a tiny aircraft
Is this what it means to be gods?

We’ve tamed machines
And ridden them into the clouds

A woman sleeps
One man snores
Another works
Is this what it means to be majestic?

We hold all this power
Yet we sit in near silence

Anyone who came before
Would have seen this machine in the sky
And worshiped it as holy

But we reside inside
Trying to relax on rock hard cushions

We have tamed the skies and become riders of the sun
We have become warriors

Yet we sit
And snack
On little pretzels
Impatiently waiting
To be mere mortals again