Air Borne

When I was three foot tall I could fly. Now that I've reached near six and descending things have become more, grounded. It wasn't an aeronautical event or some Newtonian physics explanation, or even a Las Vegas prestidigitation, it was merely that my mind, that is to say I, could entertain the obvious conclusion of the possibility that if events, things, were just right - JUST right, that I would be able to see a view I had not seen up to that point in time, and, in fact, haven't, for some time. When I was a yard high in my front yard, I could arise, even higher than a yard, brightened, and too, wide-eyed wondering at the way the neighborhood looked from above the treetops...who knew, I thought. Did I get there by that some certain gait, neither too fast nor too slow, but, like some Goldilocks visa, just right? The sunshine vitamin D blowing breezily around porch poles and branches to press my face. Who knew indeed, who knows now, or soon, what can occur without Google glasses, or no child left behind or digital synapses to bit-by-bit, obscure the inherent, the wonder, the view borne away from civilization facts to life outside or, above our gravitations. When I descend toward a vertical yard again, maybe that obscurant vision-set I have carried pensioned toward epilogue will fall away like deciduous leaves and I'll be able to see the branches under life, and rise away again. © Goode Guy 2013-07-05