Once more with feeling.

Once more for the century.

It’s been nearly a week since I got here.

Two hundred miles up in the sky.

They said “you’ll soon get used to the view”.

But that turned out to be a little white lie.

Ninety-nine times I’ve been around the world.

Around the world in ninety minutes.

Ninety-nine sunsets. Ninety-nine new dawns.

And I’m still looking at the view.

From here, I can cover my country with the palm of my hand.

If it’s still my country.

Sometimes, you can see the lights.

Clustered in cities, strung out along rivers and roads.

Sometimes the lights go out.

Like they went out in Japan after the quake.

Sometimes new lights come on.

Volcanoes. Auroras. Lightning.

We’ll be over my country in just a few minutes.

I wonder if I’ll be able to see its new lights.

The fires burning in its streets.

The new dawn rising.

Ninety-nine times I’ve passed over my country.

My home.

I wonder.

When I pass for the hundredth time.

Will it still be mine?