Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of Earth
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I’ve climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
Of sun-split clouds, — and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of — wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence.
~ from High Flight by John Gillespie Magee
Magee (1922-41) fought and died in the Second World War; he was half-American, born in China, and served in the Royal Canadian Air Force. Magee wrote ‘High Flight’, a sonnet, about the exhilarating experience of flying through the air in a fighter-plane. Magee was killed in an accidental mid-air collision over England in 1941; his poem gained a new lease on life when then President Ronald Reagan quoted from it following the Challenger disaster in 1986.
Oh he died so young 😌
He did – only 19. The survival rate for WWII pilots was so low.
Peace unto all 🙏
Thank you. 🙂
Pilots get such incredible views of the landscape and it’s neat that they get to see it from a different perspective. It’s sad that Magee died so young, but at least his poem lives on forever.
We do! It’s one of the best parts; then again, I love almost everything about it.
Yes, he was so young (at that time, not even old enough to have a legal drink. Old enough to die, though.), but we have been gifted with his poem.
Beautiful poem, Lynette. I have always loved it.
Yes, I have always liked it, too. Since I am a pilot, it is really touching for me.
Thank you for sharing this beautiful poem with us. You can feel that love in this poem. Really beautiful. Thank you. ❤️🤗Joni
You’re very welcome, Joni. 🙂 There’s no doubt that Magee loved flying.
What a gift that beautiful poem is indeed. Again, thank you for sharing his beautiful words. Love ❤️ Joni
You’re welcome. Thanks for your kind comments. 🙂
I know you told me before you are a pilot! It’s super impressive. How much harder would you say it is as compared to learning to drive?
Haha. You’ve asked a question that could take an entire blog post to answer. 🙂 It’s harder than learning how to drive. I’ll narrow it down to the major points: you have to know flight regulations, airspace, communications and aircraft systems (each aircraft is different). Then you have to learn weather, aerodynamics, navigation, stick and rudder skills and take-offs and landings. Next are in-flight emergencies. It’s a complex process with a lot of detail and it all has to work together.
Driving has very different challenges from those pilots face, but most of the time, car drivers have a much greater margin for error.
That’s kind of it in a nutshell. 🙂
Well, you broke it down very well. And yes, that’s much, much harder. I don’t think I could ever do it. But that’s awesome you can. But then which do you like more? Driving or flying? I would assume flying just because not many can do it. That’s a lot to get ready. No wonder we are way off from having flying cars.
Thank you. I like flying because, well, it’s flying. I wanted to be a pilot from the time I was a small child. Just being able to see the world from that perspective and to roll and turn like a bird – these were always very appealing to me.
I can’t really choose one over the other. Driving has its own delights, and they can’t be replicated in an aircraft. I like moving vehicles, with or without wings. 🙂
I don’t think “flying cars” are very realistic. It’s more likely that they would be automated in some way as a type of public transit.
I knew the poem, did not know the back-story — thanks for that. (And are you also a Saint-Ex, “Night Flight” fan?)
You’re welcome. Yes, I am a fan! I would like to re-read it as it’s been a long time now.
I’ve found that when I reread a favourite book after a long gap, it is different — or perhaps I’m just saying that I am difrerent, and the world is different, and so the book filters through to me differently…
Yes, I have found that, too. It’s often lovely to visit an old book friend, but sometimes they don’t age well (or maybe I haven’t) or as you have pointed out, I am different or the world is and the book filters through differently.
My flirtation with Anais Nin did not survive a reread (soooo precious!), nor did my admiration for Lillian Hellman’s “Unfinished Woman” memoirs — in that latter case, because of subsequent documented evidence of how untruthful she had been… (Yet I still love the concept of being “unfinished,” at any age!)
Yes, as do I. I still feel very unfinished. I was never much impressed with Nin, so no re-reads there.