When you fly, do not forget the ground.
Let the love and prayers of those left behind
and those you go to be your wings to guide
you safely there and back again.
When you sit enrobed in clouded splendor
when the sun caresses your shoulder and
the moon kisses your neck,
remember the earth,
she whose waters run through your veins,
whose clay is the marrow deep within
Remember the altars you have lifted up
to the sky, filled to the brim with
precious sticks and stones, going up,
falling down, completing the circle,
returning to their beginnings though
changed. And when you alight and your toes
touch the warmth of the ground again,
may your body remember and share the
journey, the brief moment in time
when you were one with the wind.