I am flying over rivers;
My father walking down below.
"How did you learn to fly?" he and his companions ask.
"I practiced in a dream" and I recall the dream while in a dream.
I swoop and spin, it's so much fun to fly through the trees, over high wires.
"Stace, it's dangerous, I wish you wouldn't." My father shouts from the ground as he falls into the river, sinking.
"Don't say it. Don't tell me I can't fly. If I believe you, I will fall"
Descending slowly, tuning him out.
Determined to rise again.