The dreams are not about flying, not exactly.
I am high up in the air, and I can see the ground below me.
I am at the peak, the apex, of my… not-flight. I have been flung up here, thrown up into the sky. I am thrilled — and terrified of the plummet back to earth.
How will I land safely? How do I not break?
And why have I been hurled to this height? Only to have to tumble and survive? Or to just have the thrill — and know I will wake up and everyone will be fine.
I’m in a breathless place, helpless and still hopeful. Arms wide to the sun.
I will be caught and saved. I believe.