So what’s flying?
Well it’s a word for starts.
It’s what birds do and Icarus did.
Never fly close to the sun or temptation.
Some people do it in airplanes as transport.
Sort of like skipping on board in steerage class like the folks on the Lusitania; but now they only have three classes.
One can have worldwide war by flying.
The Walendos do it all the time; and so do the Cirque people.
There are two commonly used expletives that are flying all the time.
Didn’t you ever have fleets, as in flying of fancy?
Flying from reality, sorrow, lost love, and lovers’ unmet expectations.
Freedom when you fly out your worst nightmare, your dark little closet, ad infinitum.
See how love flies at your heart and other vital body parts.
Sometimes I fly with you when your memory is close to me.
Those sweet moments we shared: our first Christmas, your tears when I showed you our first apartment in a basement with US Army surplus bunk beds, the two times we went to meet our social worker and collect our new family; first Jimmy and then Carolyn.
Flying can be the way we feel when the music of the symphony envelopes us.
Or the home team wins,
Or when a wrong or injustice has been righted.
Do you see that star flying across the midnight sky? I wonder if it is one of our loved ones. They say the soul is forever and when it wants to, it makes itself known to you.
When is the last time you flew into a rage?
Usually that amounts to a pointless solution and a lousy flight.
Flying is what I like to do on my magic carpet. Come on board with me, there’s plenty of room.
To quote Margo Channing of cinema fame: “Fasten your seat belts; it’s going to be a rough ride.”
But that’s what flying through our respective lives is all about.
—Happy Landing!
9/30/2013
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