I have as much trouble answering that question as I do answering my wife of 23 years when she
asks; "Why do you love me?"
I knew I must fly when I saw an airplane for the first time.
I knew I must marry her when I first met her.
There is no logic in this matter.
The friendships, the fun, the sense of community, the freedom are all just ancillary
issues that are a part of the gift of flight.
My wife, Therese, is standing over my shoulder, reminding me of the "ancillary
issues" that are a part of being in love with her.
You are looking for a poet who is in love with flying to describe this.
The closest I have seen able to do so is Richard Bach. He explained his love of flight,
but I'm not sure that even he explained "why".
I can only say that every time I lift off, every time I land, every time I am cleaning bugs
off, every time I am changing the oil, there is nothing I would rather be doing, because
that is part of doing what I love.
Just as when I am taking out the trash, emptying the dishwasher, or mowing the lawn,
it is part of what I am in love with.