Migrating Soon

Is this just a fowl’s migration? My soul feels its wings vibration. It doesn't just move in the air, upward pushing and pulling to where? May I come, may I go along too, may I become you? As I hover and glide t’wards my destination, looking here, looking there at this ocean. I meditate on where I’ll land, single pointedness, focused, planned; across this seemingly eternal span. I need to, I want to, don’t you? Is there a nest already made, is it warm, is there shade; where I can rest my wings, and calm my heart, does she sing? I need to, I want to, don’t you? Do you need to rest too? The trade winds are blowing, as I beat my wings, counteracting this force that’s trying to push me back. Can I be in two places, why do I lack? There are many seasons; does there have to be a reason.     Background and poem by Gary Hodges