They say that the a butterfly flapping it’s wings can cause a hurricane.
Some tiny little force here ripples out and can change lives and histories there.
I fear that every little flap of a wing in my home has set the course for things unknown.
I want to use those wings to float and soar and leave fear behind.
But there are rocks in my stomach.
They start as pebbles and sometimes they grow heavier. Weighing me down. Grounding me to this place of worry.
I just want to soar and know that it will all be okay in the end.