Her wings are familiar,

I’ve seen them before –

I know I have

Pulsing, beating

against the warm spring breeze

She’s here, too –

I can’t recall how long

it’s been –

a year,

maybe more?

Memories flooding back

into my awareness,

stories once told around the fire

I know She’s here –

and then

and yet to be

She’s All

pulsing in my veins,

in the wild,

and in the wings.

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