Die flying, but do soar

Sitting at a height of 100 feet
Only the sky above me
There are no more peaks to rest on
What if I fly and get tired, I wonder
A high-flyer hovers over me
Tells me I’ll be a sitting duck for an eagle
As he speaks, an eagle swoops over him
I’m slightly sad, but think
See, it’s too risky to fly
The eagle went for him; not for me
Not realising, if not this one
The next one will surely get to me
For it can’t get any easier
I’m a sitting duck.
A gust of wind blows me off the peak
I’m trying to fly back to the top
Flying against the wind isn’t working
Dust in my eyes preventing me from seeing
I decide to fly forward
After several hours I look down
Beautiful view of the mountains enthral me
Oh lord! How much I would have missed
If I had avoided my natural state, flying
If not for that gust of wind
I would have been a sitting duck.
An eagle flies over me
A sudden fear grips me
I have nowhere to stop
Oh, What the heck!
If I have to die, I’ll die flying.