Flying Dreams

I always knew I could fly,

Dreaming it since I was wee high,

But even in dreams

I felt a little slight

When I took flight

Feeling so light

I didn’t fear the fall,

But reaching heights so high,

I’d never come down,

But rather float off beyond stars.

I Had to wake up and grow roots,

Make roots in firm ground,

Stopped dreaming of moons,

And live free though earth bound

Making live sounds,

Walking tall mounds,

Rebound and rebound,

Until I found home

And came home.

In control of my power

I Bloom like a flower,

And roam Like fluff seeds

In need of a breeze

Out of dreams and into reality,

Soaring like bees

Awake and aware

In my power

Soaring higher

Then I ever could dream.

Dreamer

Because I find myself floating off into imagination, i used to worry that I might get lost one day and so decided to learn how to ground myself. 

Then today I accepted it and said to myself that 

I like floating off into that world where everything is wispy and the words are poetic,

Where the voices from earth are muted and the possibilities need just be imagined.

I’ve seen my future and I know I will float away so thin and dissipate one day to become everything….

So there it is. 

Be Present

Clarity. Be mindful, Be present.

I say this, I hear this, but do I always live this?

Today during my morning meditation, I experienced a different sort of clarity. I am made of air. If i’m not careful I will probably float right up to the clouds and that will be it for me, So i exercise my body, my mind, and my spirit as a way to touch down onto the earth and let my feet sink deep down until I feel the cold dirt molding my feet.

After my morning meditation, i felt, for the first time, quiet. I sat at home and no impulse stirred me to pick up a paintbrush, turn on music, write down words, clean, decorate, or any nature of creation. I drove to work and saw in front of me the cars with no reaction, looked to the sky to see the sun was not shining, and it made me wonder if the spark had left. It actually concerned me, but not enough to feel inquisitive. I might have been a little disheartened, but I did not even have the energy to dig down years for an explanation, though i felt those memories wanting to surface on low energy.

So within the 3 more minutes before I must rush to my next job, I write in my true voice. A muse did not visit me today to splash a kaleidoscope of images turning and spinning around my inner eye. I sit on the tan carpeted floor of my living room typing on top of a plank of wood and two crates. I stare at a flat gray wall and cork board with a group of $5 off coupons to Fresh & Easy. The house is quiet with no music. My mind is silent and I can understand how someone might enjoy this alleviation. I inhale deeply the scent of a house lived in and exhale in a momentous sigh.

I feel clarity. I am mindful. I am present.

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