to take off our shoes for what is holy.
We have felt the soil of compassion
between our toes squelching with readiness
for what must be planted.
Change has come to us on an olive branch
in the mouth of a dove,
when we finally opened the window.
The outer case of our old ways of doing
has peeled slowly into revelation.
All butterflies at first look bedraggled,
and messy lumps of wings take time.
Leaving the things we found comfortable
we wait for the colours of a broader spectrum.
But we also stopped searching for silver linings
when we learned to appreciate thunderstorm grey.
There were butterflies under the rain
coming up into the sky
and being taken
wherever the wind was going.
We forget to take control
when we see your breath on the wind.
Photography - David Mark
Listen to Gravity - Jenn Johnson