As a Boy, I Dreamt of Flying

I sat down intending to write a serious piece about experiences I had concerning lucid dreaming..
Instead, I came up with a silly poem. I hope it conveys something, even if just a smile.

As a boy, I dreamt of flying:

Soaring through the trees,
And around the mountains.

I thought, “Well, this is amazing ... this is incredible!”
“Better than computer games, skateboarding or tumbling down a grassy hill.”

So, I said to my friend, “Isn’t this great, shouldn’t we participate..."
“More fully in the journey, and see where it can take we?”
“So far I can tell the options are limitless...
We’d be missing out if we did any less.”

So dry came his his reply, I found it quite a shock:
“It’s just dreams, not reality, why bother expending energy?”

Too stunned, I was, to point out that he was way off tack,
“How does it matter, the lack of actual fact?”
Too young, I was, to have the words to explain, the feeling that nevertheless remained:
It doesn’t matter while we're there; exploring and discovering through the virtual air.
So far I can now tell, it won’t take even a little bit away from the where we usually dwell.

And, if I’d known then, like I know now about timelessness,
There is no way I would dismiss, the possibilities I sensed.
Right now, writing this, almost brings tears to reminisce.

I said the same to another, and got a similar answer, it seemed I was a chancer,
Asking others to see, and practice flying with me."
And then a recklessly giving in to conformity,
I forgot about my dreaming experience, and to my present distress,
Found it was too easy to digress.
There was games and school and TV, all that potentiality turned into idle fantasy.

I didn’t dream any more after that.
Becoming convinced in this world of lack.
Until by power not from myself,
I was reminded of the awesome wealth,
That can be found, in worlds that exist, off the ground.

Photo by luizclas from Pexels

Thank You for reading!

I welcome feedback and even criticism.

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