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A stark wind was blowing, whipping hair into a frenzy, scarves lifted to float with the current. A strong burst nearly knocked me, like a wall rushing at full speed in relentless pursuit. At times only a gentle caress, the wind can be comforting and uplifting- creating beauty yet threatening destruction. This force; untamed and ever present, felt yet never seen. 

This day the wind struck a deep blow, past mixed with present and whispers of pain seeped back into my mind’s eye. Powerlessness reared its’ ugly head, words seeping out of toothless angry mouths. I hear the cry of my youth, desperately seeking words to describe uncertainty and fear that would never come to my mouth until I was an adult. I feel the sear of anger, frustration, sadness, and helplessness settle once again upon my chest as I hear a shared pain on the torrents of the wind. A cry I will never hear, one that I never omitted as it was silenced through the filters of those responsible, taken with the fierce gusts and eventually erased with time and indifference. 

The past is easily sugar coated, seen through the prism of rose colored glasses to gloss over the deep chasms etched into being. While it may be a burden to carry, it is also a rise to anger and perseverance. A story such as mine could be a respite, a damaged yet resilient patchwork of creation. 

Wind may force itself into the cracks and crevices so carefully patched over; into the deep, buried subconscious, but it also carries with it the ability to fly. It can lift those angry emotions from their cavernous well and bring them back to the light, to be faced, developed, and used to support the burdens of shared grief. At the end, a current with such force, can lift even the heaviest of loads and bring them to flight.


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