I am Flight

Desperate Times Prose: Volume XI

I am Flight

Perchance to fly
to soar above the clouds
to slice through the maelstrom of human rage
to rise above the confusion

I pick up my left foot
the ground remains
I pick up my fright foot, it disappears
the ground disappears

I am become the angel of light beholding the glory of eternal futility
I am become a moment in time's pocket
I am flight

I remember, briefly
I must be dreaming
day begins to break and I walk the path between dreams and consciousness.

Consciousness resumes
I can't remember how to fly
In theory, I can recall how it's done,
Lift the left foot - Good
Halfway there now

"Lift the right foot," I tell myself...
Try Harder
...but it is no use, my foot remains firmly planted on the ground...

I recall my dream
I picture myself soaring through the stratosphere
higher and higher, out in to space
I pause and look to contemplate Earth
I see pain and suffering, and beauty; trying so desperately to be noticed
I notice,
I am calm
I am zen
I am flight.

Did I really remember how to fly in my dream?
Or did I just dream that I remembered?