Today I long to.
To open wings I did not know I had, to soar high above the noise, the questions, the doubts, the insecurities.
To watch the smaller patterns fall away to a perspective more vast than I could anticipate.
To move above time lines, dead lines, past, present and future.
To ride the thermals. Forces that pick you up and carry you.
To be carried. The effort to arrive now given to the flow.
In the writing I have flown. I have seen. I have been carried.
In the reading, allow flight to take you.
Photo Taken May 12th 2016
Beauty Of Beginnings
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