I am going to London

I chose this path because I felt I had a calling

Or is that just a song that I like?

Sometimes though I am not sure if I am getting a call or simply listening to the dial tone 

I can never tell where the inside voice ends and the “real world begins”

I do know though that it rarely helps to yell it off rooftops

Unless you like a snuggly self hug in a coat with no arm holes 

I prefer to chose a window seat because I like a clear view during takeoff and landing if there is a view to have 

When I look out the window this time I see windmills on hills 

At least I assume they on a hills because they would get more wind that way 

They look like crosses but without the stigmata

Grey clouds weigh down from above

Held high by fluffy white ones 

I never cease to be amazed by how many shades of blue the sky can be

When it comes to life, the graphics are limitless 

I see a patchwork quilt

All over the world there are quilts you can see from a window if you are high enough 

This quilt seems to be mostly tan

I assume that means that there are less lush forests or jungles than barren land 

My ears are doing that thing that ears do as you pull towards the ground in a metal bird of travel

I notice the steward is pulling faces that indicate that he too has that thing going on with his ears

Or he may be having a fit

I hope for the former option

The plane sways like a pirate on a party night

After he has drunk way too much rum 

I hope this drunken bird knows the way to safely land in its roost