Flight

My dreams are of the ground

To feel my feet root into the earth.

That uncomfortable, grounding sensation,

A surety that comes with nestling into place.

I hover, a ghost,

floating, unable to connect.

A dandelion seed, never settling,

Drifting from tree to leaf, flower to bird.

How many have yearned to fly as I have,

Swayed and tossed by airy wishes,

I envy the dirt, the gravel, the sensation of still waters.

Let my weary head find rest,

Let the ache of flight be stilled.

I wait for a pull strong enough to tether me to the earth.

I dream of soil and stillness.