Her heart yearned to wander. It was the whisper of the wind that called her name. The rustle of the trees that sent the rhythm into her bones. The beating of her heart that caused the bass of the unknown.
She was wild. She slept among the wolves. A protector of all that is meant to be free.
She would be lying if she said she wasn’t longing for the comfort of what used to be. But who she was, and who she is are two different things. And she has yet to become all she is meant to be.
Dust coated her wings from the wreckage. The walls crumbled. Instead of crumbling with the rubble, she stood proud. Arms wide open and heart extended forward. A flip of the wings and a shake of the hips to release the residue. The residue of old ways of being. Old thought patterns. Judgements. Expectations.
She stripped the layers of the past. Unraveling the heart in the process. Soul bare. She gave herself to the Universe. Letting the Universe have its way. Everything else drips away.
A deeper level of listening was created. She listened to the pause in the moments in between. Lingered. Simmered. Absorbed all the information from her ancestors. A showering of love from thousands. Old love. Deep love. A love her soul knew. A coming home of sorts. Where all the stories in her soul made sense.
Instead of trying to grasp what it was. She let it be. With a deep knowing that this feeling, this peace, was within her all along. This deep, Earth rumbling love, came from the depths of her being.
And so she loved herself. In all of her glory. In all of her magestic beauty. A beauty that could never be tamed.
For she found who she was. An open vessel of love.