Flight

Sometimes I look out my window, and wonder what it would be like to just jump out and soar through the sky. What it would feel like to fly above the mountains, above the ocean, to feel the wind in my face, to be utterly weightless. Other times I wonder if we could fly, would we fantasize about a life like ours, controlled by gravity, and wish we could live like that? Would we appreciate what we have, or would we ask for more? Ask for less? This is why we dream, to fill in the gap that is created from want, we think that we will succeed in everything as long we set a goal. Once we get there, we set new ones because we realize that first one was not enough, it is a never ending cycle. My dream is to fly, not as a pilot but as a bird.