A Liturgy for Reading in the Air

A Liturgy for Reading in the Air

Richard Christman

Sitting strapped in a small
specific seat, assigned, denoted
by a large 17 and the letter F
on my phone screen
Window

The chordant “bing boong” of the
attention-getter as the captain
mumbles
Something something thank yo—
you may move about the cabin

boong

I reach in my bag, perfectly
sized for the seat, my knees just but touch the blue faux
leather pull-out pocket in front of me
fattened by the now-empty Starbucks cup
stained along the rim dark
tan, like a mustier version
of the leftover wine stain unwiped
from the cool porcelain lip from the
communion cup shared

Communion
I open my book and smell
just for a moment the familiar
memory-inducing shot of book-scent
wet almost, but dry and old but not ancient
Ripe
The novella thin in my hands, almost
weightless it cracks a bit as I open
It a bit too dark to really comfortably
see the print
Small serifs dancing over and under the
symbols that bring me back to Salinas

I reach and turn on the reading
light above, which blinds
at first and bathes the woman next
to me in light, halos the silver haired
man in front, and the teenager beside
Turbulence
Read a few words and then think better
than to impose my travels on those
traveling in only one manner today

I lean over and click the light back off
small sense of relief wafts and
as I strain just so to reenter I
remember that very few things worth doing are found along the easiest road

---

Richard Christman
Poet & Teacher

Rich is a public school English teacher and drama director committed to the cultivation of beauty in a darkening world. He is the chairman of Forefront Festival, a nonprofit that seeks to equip and encourage creators in the Church to make excellent art in light of their Creator. He has been published previously in Art House Press.

Photography by Kevin Oetiker