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Wind in the hair,
I reach for the sky.
Back and forth I swing,
Not wanting to let go,
But knowing
The thrill of release
Is the highlight of my day.
Push me harder…
Push me faster…
I yell at my friend,
Trying for that
Point of escape,
Hoping all the while,
That the wind
Would carry me away.
“Jump, jump, jump!”
Shouts my friend,
And through the air I fly,
On invisible wings
I soar, weightless.
I close my eyes
And hold my breath,
As the lakes silvery surface,
Rises to engulf my body.
The water surrounds me,
Shocking me with its icy grip.
I rise from the depths,
Coughing, sputtering, laughing.
“My turn, my turn,”
Shouts my friend,
And I emerge onto shore to oblige.
As I push him higher and higher,
I can’t help but look,
Look up to the sky
And believe that
For the briefest of moments,
I could truly fly.
The End
Copyright June 2001 by Christopher J. Thomasson
