gusts of wings

if I knew this future,

cast into crystal ball,

headdress in place as I gaze in

seeing this life I live now –

I would choose

to press my bare feet

in the footprints

I set in wet sand

so many months ago.

knowing I would arrive

at the same water’s edge

looking out into


unknown waters,

of potential.


where will I drift?

what shore will call me?

where does my compass point?

what does my heart’s scope spy

off in the distance?


I only know

I am not captain, my captain.

instead first mate

tasked with raising and lowering my sails.

it is the wind that will blow

and take me with it.

when the butterflies gather

gusts stir with every

flap of their wings

and I sail.


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