The Fear Lives in My Dreams

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.