Jet lag

I am sitting in a poorly-lit airport terminal 

and blurs of businessmen and angsty mothers surround me. 
I've been watching the planes take off and land 

for delay after layover 

and the weight of this mansion of concrete and wings 
is sinking into my impressionable mind. 

This place is the hub of all emotion. 

Desperate lovers embrace tenderly. 

Wide-eyed adventurers tap their nervous toes, 
awaiting embarkation--awaiting unknown. 

Babies ensconced in their mother's arms sleep restlessly, 

oblivious of what this terminal entails. 

Clean cut suits and skirts arrive home after months of being away--

exposing their shiny new countenances to those most familiar to them. 

Immigrants walk confidently with absolute potential and fear in their eyes. 

Elated hellos. 

Teary farewells. 

Certainty. 

Insecurity. 

This is the hub. 

It is the center of every inkling of the heart. 

And from here I could take a jet plane and 

fly anywhere.