Friday, January 20, 2006

four months later

I stand confident, my eyes turned toward the sun, feeling the thermal updraft shifting its direction ready to lift me higher, refined in my craft, grueling lessons mark my heart as the plum-blue-brown bruises heal where precision claws held me safe when I crawled along the edge prematurely.
Reminded of my purpose, hope surges through my outstretched wings.
I can fly anywhere because I know where I belong.

Belonging brings contentment when freezing rain rattles against double-glazed windows at night when nobody came out all day in this unpredictable weather.
Begets an invincible spirit in my heart that I will survive the unknown details of my future among native family who shower me with kindness and sits down on my second-hand couch to drink a mug of warm Rooibos tea.

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