You feel as light as air, as free as the waves.
A bird flies past, its feathers barely touching your arm.
A plane flies above your head, people are watching from down below.
As the wind blows you to the city, you feel heavy, though the view is spectacular.
You begin to cry, not of joy or sorrow, but of the weight of it all.
You fall down and hit the cold wet concrete.
Soon the sun pricks your back and you begin to float up and up.
Back to your home in the sky.
By Taylor Brooks