Where She Lands

How does she know?

In the morning fog. When there is nothing that separates and distinguishes land from the sky. When there is no way of knowing up from down..or right from wrong....or where the launch pad begins and where the landing one might end.

It's one thing - I thought -  to spread her wings..to extend herself..to fly. It's a whole other to return to earth..to find ground and from where she once began.

I wondered what it is and how it is - that she believes? That she trusts? In herself and her own internal compass and sense of direction? And more importantly -  that wherever she lands..on whatever time and whatever day - is precisely and exactly where it is that she needs to be.

How does she know?