At Peace, Before Renewal

She sat cross-legged facing the water at a quiet park. Huffing and wired just minutes before, she walked briskly, anxious to move and let go of all the nervous energy. The water, trees, and wind calmed her in the early evening of Spring.

She closed her eyes and dreamed. The wind stopped. The air became neutral and light. The buzzing of the cars and cicadas silenced. She was now standing at the place that once stood a home fit and strong. A place that housed a little girl slurping up marinara noodles with dirty fingernails. The heart of her that once was scared and rooted with innocence. The history of heartbreak and violence tortured and destroyed what was left of any those past roots. Now, there was only a field of wild flowers. Wild weeds and tall grass sprouting through every square foot of old grass and cracked concrete. She didn't know what to do with them. Pesky and meaningless the wild flowers were, but beautiful in their own right. She hadn't a clue what to rebuild on the once solid foundation -- or how.

Something told her to leave the wild flowers be for now, to leave the ground to renew and be replenished. The home may be gone and everything she once knew with it, but the wild growth of the earth was there. Her heart will relish in those new wild roots, for better and for worse. For happiness, and sadness, she will rebuild. There will be inspiration. There will be trust again and strength. She will move forward slowly with each sunset, with each sunrise, with each horrendous storm. But for now, she will rest where the wild flowers grow. She will breathe lightly again, ready for renewal.