the moonlit side of reality (a poetry collection)

34. how to soar with no wings

October 9, 2020

There's nothing quite like

riding a bike.

Putting all that faith in

one tiny vehicle,

one so strong

it can carry you almost anywhere,

if you're willing.

There's that first breath of uncertainty

the moment where you are still you

and the bike is separate from that

and you are converging but not quite

together.

And then you are,

and then you're one,

you and the bike and

the bike and you.

There's that feeling of the wind on your face

after the sameness of home,

the feeling of gliding along an endless road

of losing yourself for just a little bit

until you find yourself again.

There's that terror of whirring down a steep hill,

lungs knocked breathless because of

the sheer weightlessness

and utter gravity of it.

There's that feeling that you get when

you find your equilibrium

and feel the balance and

you're flying, for a second,

whole body engaged,

heart fluttering,

lungs still,

mind calm.

There's nothing quite like

riding a bike,

feeling your soul and your heart become one

as you pedal the never-ending race

of freedom.