Height is power.  That power is nothing short of seductive.  To be as high up as you can be is to be one with all things below you.  It is exhilarating, knowing that one misstep could send you to earth and break you like so many bones in a fleshy sack, stealing away the life from your body.

I stood on a fallen tree at Chandler Park in Tulsa, Oklahoma.  I stood on that fallen tree, balancing as best I could, inching myself as close to the edge as I dared.  With each step, I measured my chances of surviving a fall and found them to be acceptable.  Even the chance of me breaking a limb in a fall was remote.  Or maybe I am so confident in my strength and skill that flirting with death is a game I can partake in with out fear of losing my heart to it.  Besides, why should I be afraid?  I stood above the Earth.

I could see for miles and miles.  I could feel the majesty of creation, and saw it for what it was; pure.  Though I was not as high up as I could be, I still felt that wondrous feeling of magnificent power flooding through me.  As I stood there gazing at this land thick with trees garbing themselves in their autumn colors, I marveled at how good I felt up close and personal with potential disaster.  I wondered at the smile that stole it's way to my face.  It was real, and for the pristine life that was nature yawning before me.

So too is there a barely perceptible sadness.  While not yet profound, it sure is recognizeable.  It was for what you, I - we - have done to this world.  As our supreme arrogance grows and lends itself to stripping Gaia of her given beauty, I can still feel a glimmer of hope for her.  This park, this Chandler Park, is a testament to man's acknowledgment of how we've nearly damned this world.  It, like the major national parks in the US, is witness to the survival of man's spiritual connection with the Earth.

If only more people would take the time to see what I can see from above the Earth, perhaps we would be inclined to seek out our own hearts and souls and find ourselves one, again, with our only home.  

From above the Earth, I hope.