cut sky, time's passing

yesterday morning, a jet plane flew across the cold blue sky, bisecting it with its linear white wake. on the way, it nearly collided with the image of the melting-ice moon... with this marker drawn across the sky, it was possible to see the swift passage of time. as aiden and i looked up, we could literally see the moon edge across the line and push off. it was surprisingly quick...

the hour hand of a clock barely seems to move; the minute hand also. but in seconds, we can see motion, and hence, time's passing. the sky itself is a vast clock, but we somehow imagine a stillness in the heavens. certainly, it changes, and we are used to specific times looking and feeling a specific way. but we are not viscerally aware of its motion, we are careful not to stare too long at the sun, and the moon and stars are just for hanging wishes. it is scary to see how swiftly they all drift across our skies, and how time is always hurtling at break-neck speed, even as we are glued to the ground...

i thought of using the jet-plane image for a poem, or something. something about how a jet-plane (taking a friend or loved one away to a distant place) suddenly bisects the sky, and how the resultant line makes one painfully aware of the passage of time...