Being human and all, I feel the tightness in my back, those steel rods of a shield that intensify when I prepare for work, do the bills, check accounts, shop with limited funds.  I recognize the clenched fist in my gut that plagues me with the illusion: “There is never enough!”

When I take a deep cleansing centering breath, I rest in my roots that I sit on the back of a bejeweled elephant.  She twists her grand head to glance back at me and smiles.  She nudges me with her serpentine trunk, folds her ears back and flies through the air.  We are on wings of the dawn, above the rain, dipping into the glistening mountain passes.  I am lifted up.

With the feet so sweetly settled on this blue-green earth, I cannot expect to be in the air all the time, but each morning I remember to fly.