Finding the Heart
She stood on stones in the creek crying
Someone asked why are there tears in all this beauty?
She answered
because the creek flows
the raven croaks
the wind sings to my heart.
This flesh that grew around my spirit
wants to dance in the rain
cry in the sun
roll in grass
quiver with aspens.
Why is this?
Butterfly answers
my spirit measures travel in and out of itself
in generations
and doesn’t count the miles
or wonder why.
It only knows it must travel.
Rain tells her
Stop managing your tears,
they are the way you find your heart.
©photo and poem by caf