Tuesday, February 12, 2013
There was a vast crowd of people. They were a different sort of people in some way -- a nation of people. The people were a nation in an ancient land. They were gathered for an annual celebration. They had been known in the victorious days past as those who flew … for they had the power to fly. But in this day and age, no one knew how to fly. The art was lost. No one knows exactly why the art had been lost. And then this day came upon us. There was music unlike other music being played. It was an ancient song of celebration. It made you want to dance … it made you want to fly. People would jump and bounce about and it almost looked like they were flying … and then it occurred to me that I could fly. I wasn’t on the ground anymore. When I had the faith to fly I could fly … it was a bit like swimming but far more exciting. I would loop and dive through the air. I didn’t even have wings (and didn’t need them). I remember flying high above the crowd and looking down and seeing the masses. Others joined me in flight … youth and children and a few adults. We danced and looped about as the crowd watched in astonishment … clapping their hands in excitement and glee. I flew … this way and that … diving down right above them and then back up. And then I flew extremely fast and away from the crowd across a huge landscape of trees, desolate some of it. I could dodge the trees and fly extremely fast to far away places. The landscape was like a blur beneath me and around me. I knew about this land … there were the palaces of the ancient kings in the distance. I thought of the long tedious travel along the ground that our people often use for transportation. The palaces were hardly visited anymore. But I could reach them very quickly. Perhaps that’s why the land is as it is … hard to travel on the ground … places spread out by great distances. It is the structure of an ancient society of fliers who had abilities we now only dream of. Then it was normal … today it was astonishing. When I returned to the massive crowd, no one was flying. I would stop and walk among them then wink at a little girl and ask her if she could fly. “No one flies anymore,” she would say. And so I would leap into the air and tell her … “This is how it starts … leap into the air!” She just stared at me as I did leap into the air. But then I fell back down to the ground. I tried again … but still didn’t fly. Finally I leaped and believed I could … I pushed off out of that reality and flew into the sky. The crowd gasped. The ancient art had returned.