"If you could have any super power, what would it be?" I think it's a question we all have to answer at some point. We're innately curious about the unknown and enjoy diving into the depths of imagination. We know it's not possible, but we can't shake the question of, "What if?"
I don't think my answer has changed since I was asked as a child. I never saw much need for invisibility. I don't think I would enjoy being a mind reader. And sure, shooting laser beams out of my hands would be fun, but there's something that I've always been drawn to more.
I would like to fly.
To me, flight represents freedom. It's the ability to travel around without borders, coming and going as you please. I initially associate it with being closer to nature, as well, something I really love. With modern transportation, the desire to fly is a little closer to becoming a reality. Still, until we sprout wings, it looks like flight will remain a dream.
Keep dreaming and flying, my friends.
- What super power would you want?
- What does flight represent to you?
Share your thoughts in the comments!
Flight PatternsSarah sat in her apartment bedroom with her head in her hands. She was torn between feeling intense anger and weeping sorrow. She'd been fired from her job today. Not that she was terribly disappointed about that; she hated her job. The people she worked with were all assholes who gossiped more than old ladies at bingo. She'd been confined to a cubical, expected to work eight hour days that were never long enough to get all of her work done, so she'd ended up staying extra hours or coming in early and of course she'd been salaried so she didn't get paid for those extra hours. Her boss had approached her earlier that day around lunchtime. He'd pulled her aside into his office to inform her that because of her lack of ability to work with her team members and because she was falling behind in her work that he was going to have to let her go. Sarah hadn't argued, didn't say a single word to the large balding man, but had simply gone back to her desk, packed up the few personal items she h
FlightIt's a start (you tell me)
a bird, life lived in
an open cage
with wings clipped.
not nearly trapped, but
The night creeps in
and the door slips shut; I'm ready
to fly away.
What can we do,
there is a rattle of bars
and a crash of drums
in the darkness. Ringing high
and true, crisp in the nighttime frost
I shed my flight in the fall
so the winter might ravage me, raw.
The last few shreds of down flutter
to the cage floor,
and I am gone.
Cages and mirrors,
both are as lakes of ice:
These things are children of our own vanity.
The abyss is only as deep as we allow it;
The winter only as cold as we ourselves become.
Besides, what good is an invincible summer
without a bit frost from time to time:
little veins and veils of white,
settling down on the last mottled days of fall;
this child (of my vanity) will not be soon forgotten
in the bitter trailing edge of autumn's warmth.
It's better this way, in
Waiting.I stand, I wait,
I watch, I wait,
I look, I see, I wait.
So are big, some are small,
Some are fast, some just crawl,
I watch them all,
As I wait.
Some are welcoming, some are not,
Some remembered, some forgot,
But I watch them all,
As I wait.
I feel them, as they pass me by,
I hear them, whisper goodbye,
I listen to them all,
As I wait.
But there will be one,
Who will welcome me in,
Who will free me from this sin,
And I will wait no more.
For as I fall, I will break,
I will give, and you will take,
And I will wait no more.
I will open my arms, I will take flight,
I will know, that moment is right,
And you will watch me, as I fall,
As I will ask forgiveness just before,
The moment I will wait no more.
But for now,
I stand, I wait,
I watch, I wait.
FlyWho dwells in the high reaches
Has far to fall but much to see.
Be quick to catch at clouds
That race the wind and listen
To the tongues that rivers speak.
To a FledglingA bird in flight must be aware of the night
Ere, in its might, the darkness cause fright
Darkness conceals the dangers they fight
And can easily lead them to a land of blight
A star or two might lend their light
But can't always be guides through their flight
In order to live, birds must continue their flight
Even when it means flying through night
All may seem to be kinder with the light
But darkness falling turns all things to fright
Darkness shrouds the world in evil and blight
But they cannot give up, no they can't, they must fight!
Long and hard it will surely seem, this fight
But each bird must not- cannot- give up his flight
They cannot surrender, they must carry through blight
It is true, they must and will face many a fright
And confront many dangers as they fly through the night
But they'll know it was worth it when they come to the light
The sun will shine in the land of the light
Proving it was worth every fight
All the fright
The long flight
The dark night
Each foul blight
Fly AwayLet me escape
I want to fly
Fly away to a faraway land
My struggles erased
Don't tell me it's too far
Honestly, I don't care
I need to spread these wings
That have been clipped for so long
Fly up into the big blue'Fly, fly up into the big blue sky.
Let them all know we're all still alive.'
I was once told a long long time ago that if I believed, then I could reach my biggest dream.
So I packed my bag and searched far and wide to the source of my dream keeper. I knocked on many doors and received many more laughing replies. Because they all thought I was crazy, nuts, stupid, that my dream was an impossible diamond to catch.
But what do they know?
My quest was worth it.
Along the highest mountains I sought it out, along the widest oceans and the deepest volcanos. No place, nowhere was too scary or beyond my reach. From city to city, town to town, village to village, from house to house. I did it all, not leaving a single rock upturned. I breathed it all in, trying to learn, to come closer to what I needed and wanted.
Years, many many years have past since then and not until five decades of searching did I realize that what I dreamed, what I had been seeking I had become, the reality of my
The Little SparrowHer name was Emma, and she wasn't afraid of falling. For as long as she could remember she had been jumping - always plummeting. She understood the laws of nature: no matter how high she climbed, gravity would always carry her back to the ground; gravity would always grant her momentum to fall and wind-resistance to float. She understood why birds had wings and humans didn't; it was because humans would just as soon leave, and they belonged on the ground. :thumb280293062: :thumb276857899:
They always called her a little sparrow, always trying to fly, but they never understood that she didn't want updrafts or wings, she only wanted to scale walls and scurry up trees, to test the limits.
She wanted to throw herself from rooftops and swan dive from balancing bars, challenging inertia and gravity and the laws of motion. She wanted to cannonball into puddles and see if the ocean caught her, or if she merely fell through the earth to the steaming, bubbling core. She wanted to lift up her arms in triumph, her hair