A Finger hold

I dreamt, I flew, across the land.

Across the waters.

The mountains flew by, beneath me.

As did the cities of man. Cities of light, though no longer relevant.

All this past beneath me, as I rode the wind.

The moon was my guide and my protagonist, pulling me onward.

I knew not, what it was that I sought, but still I sought it.

My hunger for it growing, the taste of it on my lips and in my head.

Faster I flew, lest it slip away.

Could I grasp it, hold tightly to this fleeting dream, existing here in this realm of my imagination?

I need only to give in to it, wholly releasing the finger-hold on my waking reality.

I had paused, considering, drifting on the currents. The pull of a life not yet complete, tugging me back. And so slowly I released the dream, returning to the firmament.

It is there though, waiting ......for me.