Taking Flight

When I was a child I thought I could fly.  I would start by running and concentrating on taking flight.  I'd fly over the trees and the neighborhood houses.  How did I know what that looked like?  that still makes me wonder,  did I really fly?  did I somehow have the ability to fly in order to get away from the torture I was experiencing.  I wish I still knew how to do it.  I wonder why I would come back and sometimes I'd feel angry with myself.  was there a part of me that enjoyed the pain?  why didn't I keep flying?  I have dreams periodically about flying and I love those dreams.  I feel so free and happy and at peace. I need to take flight and look above the trees, and feel the wind in my face and soar like an eagle.