individual flight paths designated for each of us.
you start out, slow and steady,
building momentum, breaths regular;
headed in a straight-foward direction.
as time passes steps get lighter,
your head is in the clouds,
your feet above the ground, lifting
higher and higher, with wings that
swoop rapidly, mirroring your hastened
breathing. the last time you checked,
you had no feathers and you were no angel.
you were merely a boy who wanted to seek his past self, only to find your alternate future self living the dream you’re having now. but this is not your field of specialty, you can only sit back and watch the wind pass you by.