I once dreamed of flying, often. They were nice dreams, dreams I would enjoy and look forward to, and wonder where they came from and what they meant.
Over the years they stopped coming to me in the mornings, seemingly just before I woke.
They were of striding in the air, a sensation of power like I`ve never experienced in real life, always over green valleys with so pleasantly little distracting detail, an almost guilty pleasure.
I wonder now where they have gone since then?
A momentary wonderment.
28 May 06