With everything in life, what goes up must come down.
Birds take flight to fly to a far off distance, but must land to feed off of the Earth’s soil.
Butterflies fly from one flower to the next, but it soon lands to take a rest. Bees go from their hives to a rose, but at some point it stops to regroup on the branch of a tree.
Our existence takes flight on the wings of others. Just as a newborn baby awaits for its’ mother to come and pick him up. We too wait for the arms of someone to come and pick us up.
We wait to be held, to be loved, and to be appreciated. We wait to be caressed, consoled, and pampered. We wait to hear words that makes our heart pound. We wait for long walks and beautiful sunsets.
When life graces us with the desires of our hearts our flight begins. We soar through the air with nonchalant personas, knowing that all good things will eventually come to an end.
We fly above the dry ash realities, we fly above our most fondest dreams, and we fly above our wildest imaginations. We glide over the rocky terrain, and treacherous waters barely touching the surfaces.
We are now a flight in motion, a storm arises we can’t see, the wind is blowing too hard, the rains are too heavy, our wings are getting tired can we hold on…we must hold on. It’s too much.
We touch land; it’s cold, no food, and no shelter. It’s reality; it’s the dry ash reality that we have FALLEN.