She stands steadily,
face to face, listening
as he tells a tale
of doubt and suspicion.
She notices
no anger explodes this time,
no ill will is felt
nor does she take ownership
of untruthful transgressions.
She embraces unattachment,
inhaling light
(content in thought)
that in time he may also see
through unfogged lenses.
Feeling the pulse
of freedom
and precious release
on earthly matters
she’s repositioning,
she resembles a sacred toran,
sturdy, colorful, beckoning
atop Saddle Peak Road.
As affirmation of her journey
she finds herself the path
of a great butterfly migration,
stands with arms upraised,
watching with wonderment,
marveling in the parallel of she and they,
of fragile appearance that belies such power
swooping in the swirling winds—
they ballet her a gift,
pointing in the direction of true north,
an applause from the universe
celebrating her transformation.
