Butterfly Wings


The tall cliffs protect as the ocean beats and flings itself haphazardly
against the rocks below.
The pillows of fluffy white deceive and
the tendrils of rainbows forecast the promise of a sunny day.
The veil of sea mist paints the air with tiny frolicking faeries.
I stand tall and still, and soak in the majesty.
The mist bathes my cheeks and bleeds into my hair.
The roar of the sea quiets my soul.
Sometimes the silence inside awakens when I am most still.
The air is icy and bites.
It feels good to be touched.
My skin rejoices as my heart is filled.
Don’t move, don’t allow distractions.
Immerse. Absorb. Marinate. Remain still.
This is anarchy at its finest.
Disobedient water obeys no master.
Headlands jut as time erodes.
One cannot contain forever.
Crevices give way as water cleanses.
My heart beats and my lungs billow behind my ribs.
I remain quiet.
My pulse quickens as waves roll and surge.
The ground beneath my feet vibrates as water insists,
attempting to claim, reaching ever skyward.
I close my eyes and listen.
Amidst the chaos, there is intense peace,
a belonging to something deeper and bigger.
The lighthouse winks as I once again allow sight to overtake.
The rainbow tendrils dance like ribbons of butterfly wings.

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