Higher

Big dreams,
Little girl.
Head always in the clouds.
Feet grounded in reality
By roots dug deep.
Tied to the earth
In a maze of morose.

Wanting to fly,
Windows were doors to rooftops
To feel a kite ascend,
Pretending it was her.
Up, up, up,
They would go on tippy toes.
Down, down, down,
They would fall.

Climbing trees
To be up high.
With only the birds
To chirp lullabies.
Freedom on a branch
As light as air
Nothing could compare.

Until...

Days grew into nights,
Nights into years
Seeking to go ever higher.
Upon the wings of a silver eagle.
Letting go,
Spinning downward,
Speeds so fast
Stealing your breath.

A tug upward!
Floating downward.
A rush of excitement.
What a view!
If only it could be sustained.
The ground again beneath her feet.
A chute swaddling around her
Like a heavy garment
No longer needed.

Time ticks carelessly away,
Yet desires to rise beckon
As she surfs the treetops
Like superwoman.
More often than not, though,
Travels are much gentler.
A simple shift,
A knowingness.
Higher still.