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Posts Tagged ‘flying’

 Late Night Flight


 
 
Expecting my daughter to come in
late, I slept lightly, attentive
to the slightest sound.
Imagine my surprise when my son,
dead four years, came into my room
and spoke soft in my ear
to let me know he was home.
I hugged him so long. Wondered
aloud why I hadn’t been expecting him.
Let him know his sister had
taken over their old room. Together,
we sorted through his old art projects,
old shirts, old shoes. When his sister
came home we hugged her, too,
and played chase, leaping over the bed,
the chairs, laughing, squealing, alive.
Soon, I was floating—zagging
through the air with wild delight—
not because I was trying to fly, more
like I was a leaf lifted by wind, soaring
with no effort of my own. I chased them
this way, through the dream to the day,
and our laughter was then and now
and somehow inside me forever.

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All I’ve accomplished today:
a newsletter, a few less weeds, some
scheduling, a talk with a friend.
But last night, in a dream, I flew. I flew!
I leapt from a cliff with a smile on my face
and not an ounce of fear in my body.
Truth is the fear came after the leap.
Came as I fell and feared I’d trusted
in myself too soon. But before the crash,
before the sick crunch of bones came
the weightless lift, the joy, the flight!
When I woke, I was stunned. I flew!
I flew without wings! I flew! I jumped
off the cliff and fell and fell. And fell.
And fell. And feared. And flew! I flew!
Today, the list of accomplishments
feels sparse. But all day, I felt it, the thrill
of what my body now knows it can do.
Can leap from cliffs with a smile. Can fly
even when I feel fear. It is not just a dream.
It’s a trust in my blood. I can leap. I can trust.
I can fly. It’s true, it’s true, it’s true.
Whatever is inside me knows that how to fly,
it guided me. And I flew.

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Now It’s In Me


 
 
Dawn light not yet arrived,
and the dream still so alive in the body—
 
the astonishment of flight
still rising like a tide in the blood.
 
Are the blankets real?
Or the weightlessness?
 
How is the wind still tangling my hair
even as the cat curls warm at my side?
 
What is this gravity?
 
For a while, I lie between worlds,
one steady, the other wildly free.
 
Even grounded, my body can’t unknow it,
ecstasy.

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One Momentary


 
 
running barefoot
past the end of the pier—
before the splash, flight  

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Astonished

            with gratitude to Corinne Platt

In the dream, I am flying

over the red dirt roads

of the desert, flying through blue sky

beside dark cliffs and I realize

I can choose to fly right out of

the dream’s landscape

and into my life,

and though I’m scared,

I do, fly through blue until

I’m flying above myself

walking through aspen,

flying with no effort at all,

flying wide awake

with no fear of landing.

flying without a single should,

astonished to find

I’m enough.

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One Release

 

 

you the red kite

I thrill to fly—

and me

cutting the line,

learning I, too, can fly

 

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Woman
who dreams
of flying,
do not
be sad
because you
were not given wings.
Such strong legs you have, pushing against the air with every step, and such fine skin that stands at attention in prickly praise
as the wind
lifts you the
best
that it can.

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