I can feel the wind holding me.
Lifting up my arms,
I feel its embrace
as it reassures me,
tells me its secrets.
I tell it some of mine,
letting the wind pull them from me
like gifts, each one of them
given to the wind like an offering.
Letters take shape in the air;
I can see an “a” and the word “story”
followed by the words “from” and “within”.
I let the wind take away
what I no longer need,
all that I have been
holding onto; that’s my sacrifice.
As the words are torn from me,
I can see blood in the air
but I can also hear song,
music that I eventually realize
has the same beat of my heart.
I feel the wind and I give it everything
so that I can begin again.