I used to dream I was falling
into a bottomless black hole.
I would shudder awake
as I made impact. One falling
night I realized I was dreaming.
Falling became flying. I looked
forward to flying every night.
Then flying turned to running
with heavy unseen weights
fast around my ankles. Nobody following,
just the insatiable need to run.
Sometimes the weights never appeared
and I was sprinting faster
than a gold medalist, I breathed
so deep I felt my lungs expanding,
I consumed the air there was no
breathlessness. Every night I try to find
the way back to my marathon but
dreams betray and do not develop
on command. Instead I am endurance
running from employment to PreSchool
to Kindergaten, to what's for dinner,
the next load of laundry, and where's
the toilet bowl cleaner? I know
flight is close, my tennishoes are laced,
what are my ankle weights, where
is the latch? I remember falling,
screaming, wondering if I died
when I hit bottom. Then I realize, enjoy
the fall, relax your voice be silent.
Life is like a dream, I give it
my consent to fail. Flight begins.