How John Donne writing is like a plane landing –

the commonality is
the arriving:                 overhead,
                                   decrescendo,
                                                         descending, cohesive
      above the barbed-wire fence, hovering
           with a ribbon of fuel:                  caustic, the fragile 
cathedral    into wind, towards contact,    the sound 
hollowing, hollering, world to world;  
           decremental,
touching – just – ventriloquising
        then the core crumbles,
then is human, then disappears:  the bare task
                  performed:
emperor of sound   – pssssshhhhuuuuuuuuooooooo! –
grounding
                  to rest: engines bawling – 
and the sound entering the body, 
                                                  kettled into a word –
and the word caught safely by the pen,
the ear, the mouth –
       and what is the body but a vessel
                sliding onto the earth 
                                                 of a newfound* world –
can you hear it?              the fantastic to the mundane
         and vice versa – 
         the sound of men claiming land, beautifully


                                                                                   *sic