We are taken by things
of the air and the wind—
birds, butterflies, dragonflies,
balloons, lanterns, and planes—
hoping that we too could leap
and not hit the ground,
because our wings would catch wind,
but no, we’re human,
bound to the ground,
made of dust.

Then again,
when the time comes,
I am reminded that
dust too rises
and is carried
to where the birds go.

Until then, I look up to the sky
spread my arms and open my hands
to embrace all that I have,
and all that I am,
and to be thankful
for my feet and my knees,
because when I leaped,
they carried my weight,
and the ground supported me.

The sun sets, the wind is strong,
feathers fall, and my heart swells
at the thought of flight and stability,
of movement and rest,
of wings and feet,
of sky and land.