Climbing down from my control tower

Control … such a buzz word. Who has it? Who wants it? Who’s in it?

Don’t be so controlling! we say. Because we want to have our say. We want to have our way.

What if, 
instead of loose-ing our control,
we climbed down out of our control towers?
down the steps from the platforms
where we otherwise attempt
to play God with our lives?

"But..." I say, "from here I can see it all!
All incoming traffic
All outgoing traffic
What approaches and what departs..."

From here I can see everything!
It's clear. I'm clear for take off.
"You're clear for take off," I advise myself.
"Runway 4-9, four-niner, clear for take off."

Oh my, why?
You're not cut out for this kind of work, Wendy.
It takes a cool head to be an air traffic controller.
Confident.
Detailed.
Conscientious.
Certain.

Make a mistake and people die!

Lotta heart disease in this profession.
Lotta cardiac arrests,
Lotta blocked arteries,
bypass surgeries,
early retirement.

Who in their right mind would willingly assume
control tower duty over their own lives?

Me,
I'd rather listen for instructions
from a voice I recognize and trust.

Wendy, you're clear for landing on runway 2B.

Roger that.

About wlebolt

Life comes at you fast. I like to catch it and toss it back. Or toss it up to see where it lands. I do my best thinking when I'm moving. And my best writing when I am tapping my foot to a beat no one else hears. Kinesthetic to the core.

Posted on December 29, 2021, in Christian, current events, In Action, Life, poetry and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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