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
