Barefoot: A Return to Knowing
Day 7: The Return
She woke before the sun, not from the dream, but from the knowing. There was no sleepiness in her bones, no hesitation in her body. Only urgency. A pull. A quiet command.
She threw on a loose dress, didn’t bother with coffee. Didn’t brush her hair. She was already halfway down the path before her heart caught up.
She ran. Barefoot. Fast. Through the pasture. Between the pines. Past the winterberry bush still humming with bees and into the clearing.
She stopped. Breathless. The world had shifted. Everything around her pulsed with life, more life than she had ever known.
The grass was thick and glistening. Wildflowers of every shape and color bloomed in wild harmony, painting the ground with joy. Butterflies floated like blessings. Birds sang layered songs she’d never heard before. Deer grazed calmly, not startled by her presence, but nourishing themselves with what has always been rightfully theirs.
It was the same place. But not the same world. It was new. And so was she.
Her heart swelled, full of recognition.
And then she felt it.
That old, familiar sensation in her shoulder blades. A tingling. A gathering. A stirring from within. She closed her eyes. And opened her wings.
They emerged effortlessly, soft, strong, radiant. Not to escape this place, but to belong more fully to it.
She laughed, bright and wide, like the child she used to be.
“I remember now,” she whispered to the trees. To the bees. To the deer. To herself.
She wasn’t just walking the land anymore. She was of it. An Earth Angel. One who had never truly forgotten how to fly only how to listen.
And in that remembering, the promise returned. Not as a gift to be earned, but as a truth always waiting: Her land. Flowing with milk and honey. A land that lives within. She didn’t need to find it. She only had to become it.
Brilliant!