Where is it I find the strength
to dust off and surprisingly
clear
astoundingly strong,
remarkably resilient,
brilliantly clearheaded,
unshakably convicted,
to get up
yet again?
It’s the feather.
What a magnificent gift from my little old soul of a child
to
the grown up
spiny girl who often times
loses
connection.
My feather,
my gift of flight to that place where we are wise and strong and pure.
Simple pleasures are the best, Sissy.
Thank you
what a gift.