Today I start the two-day trek that will take me to Mongolia. 

I wrote the following poem while looking out the window during takeoff from Salt Lake. 

We're born to walk, as human feet

Need solid ground to be complete. 

By rights the sky's beyond our reach

For Gravity, we can't impeach. 

And yet I sit upon a plane

Which soars beyond the clouds and rain

And takes us, dwellers of the earth

Far from the terra of our birth. 

This miracle of human flight

Which takes me miles through the night

Is like permission from on high

To take a brief seat in the sky. 

I think about that, as I rise—

This invitation from the skies—

To join the light and lofty things,

Despite that we are heavy beings. 

I think about this paradox

As on the wind the airplane rocks. 

This aircraft too, of metal wrought,

Belongs below, not high aloft. 

And yet, through genius work and skill,

Good engineering, fuel and will, 

This metal bird can bear us hence

To show us our earth's countenance. 

The ancient man would wonder how

The laws of nature could allow

A metal ship, a crate, no less,

To be man's key to weightlessness. 

Yet while I share the angel's height

And hold the earth within my sight

And though I know the ground's my right, 

I thank God for the gift of flight. 

Joshua Sims

Six miles over Utah, June 6, 2016.