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August 23, 2020

weatherveins

Your winds rushed

To rush me

The strong push

Of your pull

Almost took me

Into your storm

My weathervane

Showed me

The true direction

Your true intention

You tried to settle

My lands

Like a proud pioneer

I’m meant to stay wild

Natural

Adaptable

With sun in my hair

Dirt in my teeth

And ether in my veins

I am a divine creation

That needs

No restoration.

 

 

 

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