Footwork

What if I am more welcome and more at home
Among tall grasses
White-washed trees
Small lilacs and pale yellows
In the places
No one finds
In the usual way?

What if my mind clears
As breezes,
cool and light,
Find their way into
The underneath of
My skin?

What if I get high
On getting lost
And braver
As one foot
Finds it's footing
And the other follows
In a rhythmic stride
More holy
Than an oaken pew?

What if I can cry
Through my breaths
And it
Makes my heart
Break
Then inhale once more to
Spread
Forgiveness
Over each cut, bruise, fracture?

Pacing and breath
Are my only focus
I find strength
In each glance
Across miles
And miles
Of my own resurrection