What goes up...

I always dreamed of soaring. Not necessarily flying, mind you. Just soaring.

That's always been my favorite part of an airplane flight... the take off. The engines roar. My body pressed against my seat back as the jet gets up to speed. The stomach lurch when the wheels come free of the ground. Then watching watching watching as everything on the ground shrinks to indiscernible blobs of color intermingling freely with each other. I like breaking above the clouds so high that when you look out at the horizon, it starts to bend proving immutably that the Earth is round.

Anything that can make me rise up in the air and provide that feeling of freedom.

My attention is held rapt anytime I ascend.

If only I could keep rising.

Never stop.

Just keep going.

Higher and higher and higher.

...must come down.