The Nest

Originally posted at Chart my Words

It was the wildness of the river
And the mystery of the woods
That brought her back to herself.

The sparrow fluttered noisily nearby
But she sat,
in the quiet chaos.

Her anger rested
and the inner dialogue that geared up to fight quieted,
allowing her to breathe.

In and out,

She hadn’t noticed the tightness that had grown in her chest,
But out here,
with the sound of the stream rolling by

it opened

and the sparrow flew in to build its nest.


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