All around me are circles
flowers
bird whistles
the breeze is slow and yielding
my skin is soft the air
warm.
In my sweater I am whole
unsearching
existence
The fire that warms me is my own
and long has gone unnoticed.

Cliffs don’t seem so lofty now,
these friendly points of elevation
invite me to drink
at their shores of freedom
my feet to choose which way to go.
I go north, at first,
then turn east and saunter
along the ridgeway, slow and patient
my feet are not human
the air is my mother.

I turn to go south, for really, why not—
I have no intention of some direction
no specific destination in mind.
It’s easier, I find, to get where I’m going
when I’m not holding the map.
Tall tan trees giggle beside me
I touch the soft blades of the
youthful sprouts
I am welcome here
more than anywhere else
because here I release my sense of self
and taste the raw boundless
freedom of being.

I am a being.
Not an American, not a woman,
not a chef, not a liar, not a sweater—
I am a being;
and here I am being
and here I feel free—
no wonder!

This haven of Nature
is seeped in diamonds
and powerful riches
that go unnoticed
they taste just like chocolate
this taste so delicious.
The birds are my brothers
and call to our sisters
and together we fly to the sun—
I look on the sea and forget
where I come from
don’t pretend that it matters
we just keep smiling.

I am a being,
and here I am being
and here I feel free—no wonder!

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