The Power of Flight

I rediscovered the power of flight after
almost a decade of ground confinement.
The conditions were fine. Clear skies, a slight breeze
and a warm undercurrent. I approached a
wheatfield near a ruined castle in the northern territories.
Time to loose the surly bonds, I thought.

I can't take off if anyone's watching,
you must have heard of shy wing syndrome.
There was no one about so I thought to hell with the consequences.
New rulings had downgraded unlicensed flight in this
territory to a misdemeanor. Something to do with
the less stringent gravity up here reducing the risk of accidents.

After so long away, I found it remarkably simple
to enter the mild trancelike state required
for take off and I soon found my way into the slipstream.

I had some trouble settling upon a dignified position
and soon discovered that any deviation from
my clumsy seated position resulted in loss of altitude.

I waved to the jolly ploughman. He ignored me.
Some claim that flyers become invisible to those
who are incapable of flight themselves. They simply can't see
what they don't believe in.

As I drifted along, I experimented with posture.
Found a way of slowly extending the legs without losing height.
For flying enthusiasts, this involves
a gentle rotation of the shoulders.

It seems that faith in the existence
of other-dimensional shoulder attachments
- what some term the Angel Heresy - is crucial too,
but I am aware that this is a controversial topic.

I angled my legs behind me and found myself
in what I considered a stylish position
perhaps resembling the serene angle of Chagall couples.

The fields passed below me and I approached a forest.
There was a small building inside the forest
and saw a hooded figure walking away from the building.

At this point, the patient stared shaking uncontrollably and
the interview was adjourned until a later date.

from Start Dancing, 2004