I have flown high and seen the clouds
Made love to the wind, kissed the rain
Been on the ground and built the road
I know the peak, we’re on the way.
My mind sprouts wings at will.
Yet the road frowns when I take off.
“Enough of the flights, play with the rocks,”
And I feel the weather change.
Being torn between the earth and the sky
And a certain lightness, the unbearable lightness
That moment when you realize the earth needs time.
It’s too damp, too muddy, too sullen.
Rolling up my sleeves again to set it right.
Fixing things that can always get better.
How do I know when to fly and when not to?
How do I trust the Earth when it never seems just right?
Nothing might ever be just right.
Uncertainty, after all, is just a perception.
I have the choice of either wondering at the dusk.
Or waiting for the dawn and take flight again