The Ground is put where it's supposed to be
The dirt is always under your feet
It holds stubbornly to what wants to be free
It can drown you in waves and make you enslaved
The Ground will hide you in the folds of partitions
woven with desire and contrition
But the ground, it is not you cradle, nor your stable
So grasp surely your hammer and whetstone
Your soul is to be forged and honed,
Loosen the ties of your boots and
Do not let your toes turn into roots
Rise up to the air
Live and love on adamant wings
Rise up to the air
Open your heart and breathe
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