Paper Plane is a resilience poem, a description of how children can and do rise above tragedy, full of bravery, strength, and love.
When Father died and Mother lay sick in bed, the child stepped up and made a paper plane, ready for take-off in minutes. But the howls of his little sister and his brother’s dirty diaper messed up the flight schedule.
Not to worry, he thought to himself, I’ll sort them out and bring them on board. Nappy changed and tears wiped, he cleared them through security, though soon halted by the guard’s x-ray glances. Too much hand luggage, he said, no knives permitted.
But Father died and Mother’s sick in bed, the child protested, handing over the banned items with a thick smile to keep his siblings reassured. At long last, they were ready for departure.
The paper plane’s jet engine drowned out Mother’s asthma attack during take-off. Up, up and away they flew beyond birds and clouds, weightless through thinning air, beams of light, and passing time.
When Mother’s pocket alarm shot down the paper plane, the child stepped up and phoned emergency services. You’re lucky, mom doesn’t need to go to the hospital, they said, prescribing potent medicine she’d have to swallow for years to come.
No one batted an eyelid when the child grew up to become a pilot, sure didn’t he bring his siblings on flights every day for years, they nodded to each other. Thank the Japanese for OResilience Poem – Paper Plane
rigami, the child would always say.