Flying deep

To dig deep,
burrying in the turf,
slowly poking top through mud
green, leaves, fruit
but watch that your feet do not become too accustomed to the ground

For we were also meant to fly
to be one with the ground, but also kin to the eagle.
Not to migrate,
no, to fly only when you fly from trouble is a giving up
But to rise on the wings of the morning
and to dig deep with your wings
not forgetting where you come from, nor the vision of light ahead