Visual Journey 60

Wind, Wings and Cloud-Light

Sometimes, as something shifts,
the body knows before the mind.
There’s a stirring—
in the gut, in the chest—
wings ready to lift
but not yet certain of flight.
Limitless, liminal.

Steady now- 
I walk slowly, with great intention.
Each footfall reminds:
I am here.
I am held.
The earth knows my weight.

The wind begins to rise,
rustling the pine needles,
stirring the birch leaves—
ancient language; timeless.

To the left, a memory surfaces.
A fox once stood there,
pausing as I watched from the road.
It turned to look at me (twice; walking forward then sitting each time,) as if to say, 
pay attention.
Before vanishing into the trees.

Looking up, a great gust of wind surrounds.
Crows arrive like shadows unfurled.
Wings wide,
riding the invisible. Above, a caw cracks open the sky.
Black against cloud-light,
riding the unseen currents.
I watch silent, as
a feather
black, whole,
carried by wind and a small, soft body 
drops near the pond,
as if placed.

A gift.

It is known, in many traditions,
that feathers found this way
speak of transformation.
Protection.
Inner wisdom remembered, held deep within. 

To hold the feather is to say yes
to what’s coming,
to step into the unknown
with a heart that listens.
Turn it in your hands.
Feel the gratitude rise.

Magic is not rare.
It lives in the rustle,
the stillness,
the witnessing.

It waits for the eyes
willing to see the unseen.
In the heart,
Open.

**

Love XXX,

Thank you all for pushing creativity and healing out into the world in your own way. I love reading your wonderful comments. So much gratitude to you for supporting my own small efforts and Layers Of A Creative Life.

All art & writing©️Charlene Lutz 2025