Roots and Wings

I am both the oak and the eagle, Grounded and soaring, simultaneously existing In two states of being. My roots run deep into ancestral soil, Drinking wisdom from those who came before Their struggles water my growth, Their triumphs are the nutrients in my earth. But these roots, they aren't chains, They're launching pads disguised as anchors. See, every branch that reaches skyward Is a testament to their foundation. I've learned to dance with the wind While keeping my core steady, Learned to bend without breaking, To grow through concrete circumstances. Some days I'm all roots: Digging deeper, questioning further, Finding strength in stillness, Power in patience. Other days I'm pure wings: Breaking through comfort zones like dawn through darkness, Each failure a feather that teaches me How to catch the next current. The secret is this You need both to become: Roots to remember where you're from, Wings to reach where you're going. And in between heartbeats of fear and freedom, I've discovered something profound: The higher I fly, The deeper my roots grow. This is the paradox of personal growth You must be firmly planted To truly take flight. So plant me in purpose, Watch me split the sky I am both the oak and the eagle, Finally learning how to thrive.