Throwing hopeful stones 

When I am in the air and you look up,  I’m thinking of you. Not *exactly *you, but someone like you. Maybe purely based on odds, I think of exactly the human you are. Stranger things happen daily,I  assure you. 

My point I’m rambling towards is this:  when I’m on a plane,  I think of someone on the ground hoping to get out of where or whatever they’re going through, because I used to be a little person  looking up at planes and jets and vapor trails, hoping someone was thinking about me. Hoping some window opened up a wider world,throwing my thoughts ( and prayers to any form of god who might pick up the signal) into the unknown blue.

I keep my heart open when I fly so that maybe (if there’s as much strange magic as I believe there is) if you think up to the sky and I think down, my open heart can catch your hopes and carry them a little farther.

You never know. 

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