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Dreamy Flights and Biscuits
by Sheldon Bass 
06/09/13
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Falling, falling, falling into the subconscious world of anything is possible. Here I am a child again, at fifty, a tender youth.  And the ground threatens, rushing up toward my body! 

 

From depths of gray matter flows a cognizant realization. I am dreaming.

 

The earth is hurtling nearer but... I suddenly recall... Here I can fly. I see the verdant leaves of spectral appearing trees shivering, speeding toward me. My arms take up the familiar posture, my body perpendicular to the ground.

 

Swoosh, I zoom, angling upwards into the heavens and down again. "Hello eagle, watch what I can do."

 

Swoosh, zoom. The air blasts past me, my body cutting through its gale like a knife. And there is the city ahead. "Oh to see their faces—their shock! A boy in flight!"

 

Here I go—past the pleasant park—up the paved fairway, quickly zipping around the high-wire pole. "There is that bully—the agitator. I'll show him now!"

 

Swoosh, 100 miles an hour I roar past him. The force of my wake nearly lifts the bad boy off his feet. "Ah, see, I am somebody after all! I can fly!"

 

Approaching sweet Melinda's house, I circle. She must see me. "She won't ignore me this time!"

 

But she does not appear. So elusive, that girl. Why do I care what she thinks? What makes me so goofy when she is near? No time for that now. I'm flying.

 

"What is that wonderful smell?" Banking on the currents of smog laden atmosphere, I turn to search, with olfactory radar. My house breaks onto the scope of visage. "Of course. It is mother cooking supper. Oh! She's baking biscuits again!"

 

I must come down to earth, for my stomach rumbles—the hearth calls. A boy must eat!

"TOM... TOM! Wake up!"

 

"Wha—What? Oh, good morning dear."

 

"Morning? It's six O'clock in the evening and you're on the couch. Were you dreaming?"

 

"Why do you say that?"

 

"You were flapping your arms around like you were doing the funky chicken dance or something. Anyway, supper's ready—go get washed up."

 

"Do I smell..."

 

"Yes I made biscuits again. I know you love them fresh baked."

 

"My sweet Melinda... You're all the dream a man could hope for."



If you died today, are you absolutely certain that you would go to heaven? You can be! TRUST JESUS NOW

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