flying

I am winding down, eye lids caught on the dipping drips of cloud. Sensations of flight, the tingled peaks of mountains below and watching the braided rivers bend around the distant earth. These moments, silent absorption, my breath floats quiet and there is no one I can talk to. Small smile on the ledges of lips, my eyes drifting over crisp blue horizon. Sunshine fills window squares and strips warm my skin, blissful awareness of the world I’m living in. Grounding tendril locks from the core of my being to the far away, through cold air particles to the pulsing pulp of crust, I am reminded of home. This elation building, the lift of grinding engines, propelling and slanting, carrying our burdened bodies to destinations. The soft connections of our spirits, molded around the rounded tip of a vessel. When we land, feet on sacred land, I will hold the sky within me, it’s open space gently reminding, that I belong here as well.