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Wednesday 25 July 2012

Day I Started Floating

                        Day I Started Floating
by Stormm


One Day I Just Started Floating, rising up and up and up,

until air and ether began replacing my semi-solid ground.


Purple, cream, orange futon clouds lie awake beneath my feet,

as I sail asea drifting platform skies.



With each stride I'll rise on pillows of successive supportive clouds,

skip along, spinning around and tap-dancing airborne stairs.

Propelled miles beyond the planetary surface,

effortlessly exerting even more hot-vibe life-force energy,

to space travel via strenuous but tremendously rewarding efforts.




At first it was merely one leg or the other,

going temporarily higher with each step,

spontaneous strides then rolling over somersaults, in leaps and bounds,

bounce up and down to test out the limits of my wind slide cushions.




Running up to an invisible spot where I can achieve gradual lift off,

climbing upon air waves before slipping off to plummet earth bound.

Get back up build enough steam sprinting until elevation occurs,

even if it's only slightly, briefly.

Over and over and over again, until eventually, I creatively figured it out.




As if you're finally able to affect enough force,

reaching a point where it's purely your decision to return to the ground or not.

Like scaling invisible steep uphill energy paths, in an electric blue room.
Initially shocking experiences during the firsts of any unpredictable sudden

updrafts, would toss me into a vortex through time and space.





So stay focused now, steady.

Breathe with ease and enjoy the incredible sensation of surfing these transparent paths,

feel the shifting golden support tidal waves beneath my heels.



Foams of weightless suds disperse, my spotty footprints fade in the sky.



I'm trekking feathery pillows of pink, green and shale clouds,

swooping alternate side dives, then woosh!

Immediately plop back upright.






Leaping miles above, from one vast continent to another,

dancing out glide-slide experimental wind drafts.



Hands extended wide a tightrope walker cautiously proceeds,

balancing gravity defiant until it hits me like atmospheric pressure.



"We airborne now", gravity's no longer an issue even worth considering...





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