What the wind wants ties me to spirit, brushing past my ears
she takes me aside
wrapping my shoulders in a shawl, yarn spun with cloud, she cooes towards me
you have something they want."
wondering through air, kicking up dirt, I ask the trees for advice
what must I do for the power of my words?
I’ve kept them to myself too long
tell me how to spin stories from the fibers, the yarn
I wove through truths I disguised.
The trees gave me their attention
from a height and a vision safe from the erosion of time
I gave them my truth
they taught me patience
“It takes time to learn
progress takes time
start, try, look for opportunities.”
The wind danced to the right of me
behind me she lovingly pushed me the way a sister would
we held hands and drifting ever so slightly,
our clasp loosened, ever so slightly, only as slightly
as two people who love one another might notice
through a lens, independent of mine
and from a safe distance
I hold a mirror on the paper and facing myself I
beam hard truths at an acceptable speed negotiated by my pen
the understanding I have of myself, on paper
and in truth
depends on the time I take to respect the time it takes
to understand the self the pen sees me to be.
"tell them" she pushed her words like breaths.
the wind pointed me west and with direction in front of me
I let the wind push me towards the page
and then I let
the wind pass me by.