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Writer's pictureCecily

Spirals.

All I see is spirals.

Spinning in the water,

Creating in the sand.


Each 'patter' of rain, dancing against these canvas walls I call home.

Bands and bands of echoes,

Soothing laughter swirling around the trees.


Kind words transporting me,

Higher to this incandescent place of love.

Softer skin radiates joy.

Cradled in this safety of the sun...shadowed in the refuge of a jungle.


Dirt stained soles, rooted happily on her floor.

I feel this ancenatral pull to gaze above.

Sparking angels guide me by night.

Releasing this once sore mind.


Healing and escaping so beautifully from foggy pain.

Deeper in wanderlust,

A medicine of collective understanding.

I have found my people.

Here,

I could always stay.


But I can't...as the absence of time has licked my wounds,

These itchy wings are yearning to fly away.


When I close my eyes and remember this place all I will see is spirals.








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