In the midst of breaking point she found a slice of beauty that was so quiet she had no choice but to hear the writer in her speak.
For all the days you thought you couldn’t, you did.
You questioned your solitary choice, looking back with glimpses of regret, only to feel yourself whole in your loneliness.
Free in your lack of materials.
Look now, through the pristine waters at your feet, let the grains of pure white sand be a reminder of your privilege to start over.
Let the sparkle in your eyes carry you forth to the next destination, without judgement, recognising the cycle of victimhood.
Be the warrior but don’t forget to take your armour off, the battle has always been within yourself.
Use this knowledge to grow like the wild flowers you’ve witnessed along the way.
Let go of control and listen now for the wind is behind you.