In dreams I fly. I lift off the ground effortlessly. I am unchallenged by doubt or any order of thought. I fly as I walk.  The ease and innate trust of letting go. The feeling rouses me, but only in writing, for in flight I am free. You see, I retain my human form and don’t flap my arms. In effect, I loose my physical boundary, which separates me from the world. I am air, though human mass, and materialize in  space free to move as I please. What strikes me, is the unquestioned progression of being across all dimension. Flight itself is insignificant, I thirst for the experience of being boundless. A moment of mindless recognition, of expansion, of touching the heart to the cheek of creation in a song of outmost peace, expressed solely by stepping beyond and aside, simply to allow. To allow the song to be flight and form in its very nature revealed. Then, it is not my flight or my doing, only at the verge of consciousness my wakeful being. Ever more.