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.