The moment I was born, I ran off the cliff.
As fast as I could.
The rocks left my feet, and I found myself hanging from fabric wings stretched over a metal frame.
Feet dangling.
Unsure of how to steer this thing.
No motor.
Just me and the glider.
–
Sooner or later, the wind stops blowing.Eventually we all start to drop.
It’s somehow become a race to see who can go the farthest, and accumulate the most toys along the way.
That bad choice a few years back put a weight around my ankle.
That ex-girlfriend tied a boulder around my waist.
And here I am, just trying to keep this thing flying.
Boulder and all.
–
Sawing through the boulder’s rope with my dull knife, I can’t help but notice the scenery passing me by.
An infinite span of places to explore.
Rivers to cross.
Clouds to cut through.
Places to spend my time.
None of that right now, though.
I’m working on this boulder, see?
–
I’ve managed to collect some items in my pocket along the way.
Things I just couldn’t part with.
They sometimes weigh me down, but I think they’re worth it.
The wind is blowing strong enough to keep me aloft now.
–
I’ve cut off boulders before.Eventually this one will fall away like the others.
By then, I might have tied on a few more.
–
Those who soar the highest don’t always have the best view.
And those so weighed down they’re near the surface can’t take in all the beauty.
The altitudes adjust with the seasons of our lives.
–
I will not be weighed down.
I will not be held back.
No one has the right to tie a rock around my waist.
But they do it anyway.
“Here, take this.”
And suddenly I just dropped 1,000 feet.
I didn’t ask for that.
Maybe I deserve it.
My longitude is not always my decision.
–
All I hear is the rush of the wind.
Sometimes it’s silent.
I’ve thought about flying too low.
Tempting fate.
Maybe ending the flight early.
These rocks may never fall off.
–
Wind in the face.
I point my glider up, and hope for a gust.
