To 2022

In the coming year,

the only drama I want to see

is that of a bird taking flight,

or a riotous garden of blooms.

The only shade thrown is

sunlight through leaves.

The only influencer I want to follow

is the one who encourages me

to be still, the one who welcomes me

with branches spread wide,

like grandmother’s arms,

the one who caresses my face

with winds that whisper in high tree tops-

“Welcome home.”

© Amy Porterfield 2021

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