Above it all in dreams

One night many years ago I dreamed that I could fly all by myself. I didn’t fly in the traditional prone position like Clark Kent in Superman, but rather in a sitting position such as one might have in a low-slung sports car with one’s feet out in front of him. I’ve often wondered how I came to fly in such a position. It’s just the way the dream was, I flew in a sitting position. Oh well, we can’t control our dreams.

Shortly after I had the dream, I felt compelled to put the whole thing in the form of a poem. The first three verses are a realistic portrayal of the way the dream occurred. The last two verses are my conception of what I took from the dream. So there doesn’t seem to be much that I can add, except to present the poem.

It is strange that sometimes a dream can come almost as that still small inner voice that we’ve all heard about, which answers a question we may have been pondering. I assume the lesson I was receiving in this dream was just to be yourself, and don’t be influenced too much by other people, and what they think you should, can, or can’t do. I hope you like the poem.

“Come fly with me”

By Richard Westlund

While sleeping soundly through the night

I dreamed that I could fly.

I soared up high, then skimmed the earth,

As I went swooping by.

Then in my dream I told my friends

About my new found skill,

But they just laughed and said to me,

“Well, fly then if you will.”

Then all their scorn be-weighted me,

And though I tried and tried,

I could not lift off from the ground.

My failures multiplied.

Although I had just done it,

When they laughed at me for lying,

I could not fill my mind again

With thoughts I had when flying.

Intimidation filed my mind,

And held me on the ground

Until I cast their doubts from me,

And then myself I found.

I had to tell myself

I didn’t care if any knew,

I’d fly, and from that simple thought

My lift-off chances grew.

And all at once I soared above them

In my newborn flight.

They gasped in disbelief

At what was now within their sight.

If you would rise above the crowd

You must stand up and say out loud;

I’m me! I can! I will! and so

Regardless of the jeers,

You’re free to use all that you have

To conquer useless fears.

The crowd is cursed with disbelief

In anything but human grief.

Intimidation is the tool

That’s used to make you seem a fool.

They think the sky’s about to fall.

They think that doom awaits us all.

I learned that if you let the crowd

Dictate your life, what you’re allowed,

You’ll never come to realize

That you were born to soar the skies.

Come fly with me, we’ll soar above

The earth in all abiding love.

We’ll find that our true destiny

Is just to live, and love, and be!

May God bless America.

Richard Westlund is a Collins resident. Send comments to editorial@observertoday.com