poetry - reflection

I linger..

I linger in the forest, threading pine needles, silently listening to the song of the night lark in the peaking moonlight.

I pass by my sorrows, the deep wells of grief. 

Breathing in.

Embracing the biting cold winter air on my bare face and icy fingers.

I have no map,

I have no compass,

but the whispered wisdom of the earth that holds me. I am movement,

life and death, stardust, wind, water, dirt,

I am fire and spirit.

I need not be everything or anything right now.

I linger. 

– Aimee Fenech

Jan 14, 2025

30 Days of Reflection

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