Lately, retreating inwards feels right. So much has happened, and the quiet heals me. I have been feeling silent like this feather, which is one of many I have found along the way. My feathers are now scattered in my front yard. I released them and their stories into the wind. How do you hold onto something that was meant to fly and be light?
I wrote this poem for an old friend. It came out of the silence I have been craving and needing.
lit with heaven light
The horizon ebbs
like a quiet river
waking a constant presence
like a quiet mantra for hope spun in gold.