What if I Went Parachuting
Jumping out of a speeding plane with
a bunched-up packed-up bunch of
silk cloth strapped to my back is
not something I could ever do. However,
I occasionally screw up the courage in
my mind, to want to. I think it must
be those moments between resting my
eyes and falling under with sleep - the
same moments I imagine myself running,
freely and beautifully or the moments
I see myself doing cartwheels and flips,
over and over, like a child.
I imagine what it would be like to stand, terrified,
at the edge of a plane, waiting
to jump - just jump. Wanting with all my
being, just let go into the faith of the Universe.
To understand that if I die - this way, at least
I'd get one hell of an adrenaline rush first!
I imagine the sky-blue above and around
me, clouds like billowing sheets of mist, bowls
of cotton balls so thick the Gods walk on
them as the watch us. The deafening
noise filling my ears, making me deaf to
everything except the silence of my mind.
But, I would be stressed - do I pull the cord
now? How about now? Do I pull it yet?
was I Supposed to have pulled it already? Shit
I probably should have pulled it by now.
What if I pull it now? What if I don't?
Instead I would hope for the peace, that
corny sense of peace that God fills you with.
if you let him. her - unnamed, unknowable
god-goddess. Oh Christ? What if I've guessed
god all wrong, what if I've had one thought
about God, and we're all frigging wrong?
And the air molecules rush by me, giving me
a face lift. I lift my eyes upward and shout, so
no one could hear me "Enough Already!
I don't need wrinkles going the other way!"
No one can hear me, I could yell anything and
no one would hear me." I HATE doing the
Laundry" I shout. "I wish I had a
Housekeeper" I yell "and could pay them
well, I add in my mind. "I HATE-HATE,
HATE the hair left in the shower drain."
I yell this so loud I cough and cough - the
tickle in my now horse voice "Causing me to laugh,
to laugh until I cry.
Tears fly upwards towards the heavens,
defying normal gravity. The tears flow until
I am sobbing. "I am a damned orphan.
damn-it" but my voice works no more.
I look around me, the earth coming
closer as I plummet to my sure death.
And I let go. "OK" I whisper.
The Cat jumps onto my bed, waking me up,
and I listen to the normal sounds around
my house: I'm so glad to be back on
earth, in my home.
I close my eyes and breathe "Thank You."