Before the monstrously winged engine of blue,

Up and away from a lakeside desert of white,

Across low-ramped mountains of tree-splashed clay,

Ever higher above the brush-hued plains, etched by man

Beneath an azure-blue vault,

The viewer soars above a dipped wing,

Arching to the wan-blue haze of the horizon, banded in white.

Black, ridge-backed ranges loom low,

A river of mist spilling from the dark rock defiles,

Creeping toward a river of winding blue,

Rising green in the riven hills,

Carved in ages gone.

-A Vision complete at 34,000 feet