From onset of puberty
on through my early twenties
I had frequent flyer dreams.
Like learning to ride a bike,
I was nocturnally certain
just the right balance of body focus and mind flexibility
would lead to inevitable lift-off.
Perhaps it was not a coincidence
that the more daylight time riding my first and last red three-speed bike,
the more likely I was to invest my nightflights
in flying forward and yet flexibly floating free
to soar with stars
float and spin with the moon
looking down and back and out at EarthTribe’s AquaMarine Home,
laced with also flying cumulus fluffs of vaporous white,
as ephemeral as identity myself.
to imagine floating flexibly
with just sufficient internal focus, balance, centering
as if a Bodhisattva Flyer
of space as time traveling
and backward pasts,
outer becomings swelling
with inner flying beings co-gravitating
contracting concentric balance,
dreams of humane-growing flight as inhalation,
internal as external exhalation
co-present floating flights
of dreamscaped transparent night.
In my dream
we remain free to fly,
free from mind v body polarities,
spirit-nature remains inspiring bodies,
spiral flying full-flight dreams