Alton, I think you mean "High Flight", a poem by John Gillespie Magee Jr., a Canadian. It says what a lot of pilots feel about flying, and I'd certainly like it read at my funeral.
I reprint it here:-
High Flight
Oh, I have slipped the surly bonds of Earth
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings.
Sunward I've climbed and joined the tumbling mirth
Of sun-split clouds, and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of - wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hovering there,
I've chased the shouting wind along, and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air,
Up, up the long delirious burning blue.
I've topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace
Where never lark or even eagle flew;
And while with silent uplifting mind I've trod
The high untrespassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand and touched the face of God!