A Pilot's Poem

Impressions of a Pilot

By: Gary Claude Stoker

Flight is freedom in its purest form,
To dance with the clouds which follow a storm;
To roll and glide, to wheel and spin,
To feel the joy that swells within.


To leave the earth with its troubles and fly,
And know the warmth of a clear spring sky;
Then back to earth at the end of the day,
Released from the tensions which melted away.


Should my end come while I am in flight,
Whether brightest day or darkest night;
Spare me no pity and shrug off the pain,
Secure in the knowledge that I'd do it again.


For each of us is created to die,
And within me I know,
I was born to fly.

This breathtaking photo was taken by my aerial photographer, Cupcake, early this morning. Isn't it just absolutely gorgeous!!! All crop dusters must really love their jobs (and be a tad bit crazy) to get in the airplane and work so hard day after day. I think this poem beautifully describes the relationship each pilot has with the sky and with their job.

This post is in memory of the pilots that have taken their final flight to the heavens; my Daddy, Diggity Dale, & Pookie. And, it's also in honor of all the great pilots I know and get to work with daily; Matthew, Cupcake, Lonnie and Brandon Everette, thanks so much for your hard work and dedication day after day! Oh, and for putting up with me from time to time! :)