From Bangkok to Boston

I will begin at the end of my trip.

To the young woman sitting in 47A from Bangkok to Boston

We share slight smiles when no one claims the empty seat between us.
Our bodies unloosen into this blessed space.

When the attendant passes out customs forms to fill out, you ask:
“Can you help me? I have never flown before.”

Dark hair, round face, wire rims, careful English,  half my age.
Together, we answer the questions.

Half a world away, I am new at this too.

You explain: “I will live in Boston for three weeks.
My boss thinks I need this experience to advance in my career.”

And once again I am humbled by a woman’s story,
by the hopes and fears and desires that take hold of our days.

As you sleep in the seat beside me for hours,
I pray you will meet kind people in Boston,
as I have done on my own journey.

I pray you can stand on your own
if you don’t.

I pray we close our eyes, hold our breath and leap.

I pray we land on our own two feet.