Go. Fly!

What’s it like to fly?

To have another dimension’s view.

To defy gravity,

To conspire against barriers of facts that keep one ground bound?

To stumble upon obstacles, only to dodge them?

To launch off ne’er boundaries zilch?

To condemn every fall?

To disregard uncertainty?

To grasp a free breath?

To experience the subtlety of space?

To have a garland of exhilaration in one’s flight?

To be seeded in adrenaline?

To alight from inhibitions?

To have an eye on the sun and meet its glare?

To be falling, less afraid of the moment passing by,

To live each moment by the moment,

To forget that time rambles by,

To witness the open sky, gorge on the great expanse of it...

To be able to feel your heart beat, alive like it should from the worldly disguise.

To know the joy of flying, free from all that might hold you back, to all that must bind.

To know that when you will land, you’ll own the ground from where you took flight, irrespective of, irrelevant to the place you left behind.

To know that irrespective of- falling with a thud, or breaking across near your pyre, you would've experienced moments worth a lifetime.

To know it isn't essential to know how to fly, but to dream is sufficiently imagined...

To understand that it is only from the ground that one stems, either on the downside or towards the limitless sky.

If only I would've known better before I put up that query that the answer was within me. That it was at the root, while I dreamed of my flight.

I have dreamt

 To have imagined so...

And now I shall take flight.

To every – To

I place my checkpoint.