Spring comes rushing in on the winds.
I feel it in my bones and on my skin—
feel the breeze chase away the hurt in my knees
and the brokenness in my heart.
I turn my face to the sun
and try to trust,
but I have learned
not to rely on
what seems to be
good or sweet.
A simple gust can
sweep it all from me.
I'm just beginning to find my footing
after the hardest fall of my life.
Recovery was unexpected
and all I want is for it to stay.
This year has been so good to me.
Will the rest of it continue to be?
I look back over the three previous years
of physical pain and mental confusion,
when I questioned my life's meaning
and the longevity for which I was reaching.
I see now the possibility for love and life to continue.
I see that I may be one of the lucky ones
or I may be not at all.
but hope itself
is delectably sweet
I cling to the warmth,
chase the wings on the winds,
and burrow into the
feathered hopeful place
where I feel safe.