When I was a bird… (Taken with instagram)
“Set me free to find my calling and I’ll return to you somehow.”
It’s something amazing about flying. I don’t know what my obsession is with clouds; with sky. But I admire it. I admire the way you can fly above the humidity and haze and find yourself floating above thousands of white pieces of cotton candy popcorn. Below is an entire world of a army fatigue landscapes with small backyard dots formally known as pools.
Above the sky is October blue and if we lifted any hire we’d possibly spot Orion’s belt gripped tightly as a serving spoon - dipping peace into the milky way and seeing if the glory of God could be tasted at all. I truly admire flying. You can watch sunsets and sunrises far longer than any earth bound creature. And I wonder….what would I do as that sparrow longing to kiss the stratosphere? Would I even make it?
I wanna go higher. What would it be like to go higher. Listening to Shakers & Loops by John Adams and climbing. I wonder if his soundtrack can make it wonderful up here. What if we could hover long enough to step out and all our senses be tantalized. What if the air was edible enough to enhance our breathing. Smell powerful enough to make us see clearer. Or what sounds clouds make when they run over the hairs on your arms.
This is some dope shit, this flying. I even see mountains reaching for us, but only jovially - because they know the only thing able to reach us would have to reach down from above us. And the mountains of clouds around feel like amazing. Look like heaven. And I’m tranquil.
And I am in this moment, okay.