Date: 2004-07-11
From: Georgia

To: Maine
Miles today: 0.0
Weather: broken clouds

Skies over PennsylvaniaJuly 11, 04Shark fish with whirl of deadly spinning whiskers walks me, effortless,through cumulous sky seas high into the blue July of coming night. Andit's Pittsburgh below like a bad memory fading, and funny it is thatGod would drop me here as well on this epic journey, after dragging methrough Albuquerque and Chicago and all those other memory-laden townsfulla failures and faded, jaded faeries, and here I thought Pittsburghwas far enough west of the AT that I would never pass that way and haveto think of her. No matter now! Dancing in the white cotton mountains of pure magicalmoist air and thanks to seatmate Linda who switched with me in the lastminute before takeoff, she noticing my fascination with the spinningblades outside her window. Now high, high! Old Jack hitchingeverywhere never had it so good! For this day I thank my father, notthe heavenly One but the slipping-into-silver salesman dad who bore meinto this world and all his faults and follies and mistakes and beauty,he is good man. And good his wife forgiven now for whatever angered meabout her years ago in my mad, anxious head of San Francisco 1999living in the art car Duke and crying and rising every morning to deaththoughts, to which tree in the Berkeley woods I would hang from,madness. And me just wanting Daddy, just wanting him but being denied,yes! That was it, though first I dropped the bomb on the wife, holdingthe grudge as I had for harsh words already old.. whatever. And mehopefully forgiven for my words and anger and angst. So much pain andill communication. But now a new sweater, Patagonia! to replace the shrunken one, and newshoes and new reasons to stomp on the terra and all this heavenlybeauty out my window, the window of this Dash 8 doing the tight rope,no, the slack line! Walking through and over cauliflower mushrooms andexplosive milk white like dreams and mountains, peaks no man will everascend and should he try, would fall right through, ethereal. And theplane , the puddle jumper as Linda calls it, rocks and shimmies and Ijust laugh, fearless, not wishing ill on my fellow travelers, butfearless myself, intoxicated by cloud heavens and not caring if I dietonight for I have seen and felt the rapture of God's best work! Clouds as seen from Heaven. Which makes me again think of all that hogwash about how onlyChristians and those who come to know Jesus will get into the Kingdomof Heaven. I don't care if it is written in the Bible, I don't believeit. I love all creatures and see something of myself in Everyman, evenhe who, should the worst happen, looks me in the eye and guns me downor cuts off my head in the name of his god.   His god, my god, yourgod, it is all one God. And who could doubt the existence of Heaven orgrace eternal who has flown? Who could question Heaven who has tickledthe tops of snow white floating worlds of weather brewing? Up here itis azure blue and no earthly mountain, none high enough in the East,peaks through. I want to live up here. I must learn to fly, and soon.I would rise up and never again come down. Were I to fly and knowinghow, I would never touch the ground. I would never again return toleaden ground. -RSM[Afterthought on the Afterlife: He would know me, and know my meaning,and my place at the banquet would be set, for there is a place inHeaven for poets and dreamers, a place the scriptures may have missedbut which exists. Sure as Jesus was a Jew, and shame on you forbelieving that a Jew would have any less chance than you, of eternalsalvation. We all on this Earth bleed and die and hope and try. Weare all going to Heaven.]For the full story of Rick's journey, visit Jigglebox.com