the hue imbued with peace
for her soul; verdancy
rustling in a morning breeze.
the skies as canvas for birds
in forward flight,
to their unique freedom ever moving.
she stands, her feet here remain,
sunk deep in dark soil heavy
with memory, with pain –
of broken promises,
of cutting losses, and skin;
bruised bones and a weakened spirit
the clouds passing by now, so high above.
A starved breath clears her head,
fills her lungs, expands her fragile ribs
with that singular surviving hope
of being enough, more than enough
in being safely