Monday, December 10, 2007

God Over Green Hills

ON THE PLANE
Riding in a plane to Nashville. I don't have a seat mate. I'm glad because maybe I can catch some sleep this stretch.
On my first flight, from Portland to Oakland, I was weary, and wanted to sleep, but was sitting next to an intelligent young guy with a desperate American life. Nice kid starting a record label.

Just Dipped Below the billowy sea, sea of clouds, falling down to Nashville. Below is another sea. a low lying cloud layer. And below that, the imperfect world. Can't help but think that's how a pilot might see it.
Up above that top layer, pale blue sky bleeds into orange highlights, against a purple field. Over the turbulent sea. A foamy sea. The sun gone. Sailboats gone. Airship. In the imagined future. A dream of a sailor. But I can't see any angels up here. Can only anticipate the chaos below.
And now I'm contacting the surface. Orange spotted circuit board. And dreams are gone.

BACK HOME
Yesterday, as I was driving down into Green Hills, a suburb of Nashville I grew up in, I noticed a church being built up on the horizon. It looked to be a massive church built of stone, dark against the only strip of sky that wasn't grey.
I pointed out my observation to my brother Johnny, in the passengers seat. He exclaimed "Now that is God over Green Hills...Jesus!"
There is whole lot of religion down here.


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