the boy in a dark suit and kippah, was in seat 24B
innocently awkward, he slides into his seat
nine hours of closed space connections
a microcosm of variety within the economy cabin
mental presence, more focus, and more observation
than anyone would have on our average days
“seat upright please”, she clicked her heels as she tapped my arm
looking up, I see the boy in 24B standing, facing backward
towards strangers in seats, straight backs, tray tables open
I nibbled, squirrel-like at my croissant
and scribbled, into my new airport bought notebook
the boy in seat 24B, I start penning
he was young, 17, maybe 18
words tumbled without effort
gliding themselves on smooth pages
as our plane took off, snooth too
hitting through the sparkle of the sun
He is captivating
in his complete submission
sincere in his observance
recitation lighting up his face
the aura of his mitzvah
generous faith, unalloyed
curious eyes reflecting colors of
the turban of the passenger
behind him in 25B
despite the chatter around
and the clatter of airplane cutlery
the mumbling in his own voice
also resonating in our straining ears
he recited to himself
unflinchingly focussed
us around him
were also focused, but
on containing reactions
controlling responses, confusing
our inner reconciliations
scribbled two pages, my pen slipped
as I dozed into bliss, a power nap
“would you like a warm tissue wipe,” she asks
I inhale the warmth, why does it barely last 30 seconds!
his prayer drifts in and out
inhaled and exhaled with his breath
as he wears his tefillin, sincerely
on the left center of his arm
and crown like on his head
choreographed almost, a disciplined practice
He continues through,
standing backward facing
beacon like within
this bubble bird of steel
his performance, full of honesty
every action, every move
being one of submission to
teaching and to grace
can such boundlessness
also, be attempted on land
I wonder as I look at the screen
45 minutes to destination, the map says
will the vastness of the land
still, allow us to be as fearless
as we are within this sterile
universe at 40,000 feet
meanwhile, descriptions of people
can at least be altered
erase the standard, default
definitions and fonts
to be more like handwritten
solicitations that fill
our hearts with an understanding
of each other’s stories
meanwhile, can we eliminate labels
that consolidate genealogy
terms that end with an exclamation mark
listings that are in columns with
lines that are walls of otherness
“have a great stay or a safe onward journey”, in a typical pilot tone
we landed safe and on time
the door opens for deplaning
and as we walk out in single file
a sense of comfort escapes the cabin
swishes out of the door, leaving us
suddenly tired
judgemental fears returned, as we
complete our forms for immigration
I poke into my pockets for my pen
the boy in 24B hands me his pencil
“you can use this,” he says
Kashiana 