They Said I Couldn’t Go Home and Here I Am

Don’t look directly into your camera. Look to the side or up and dream that you are looking at a perfect-when that you waited a lifetime to arrive. Take your picture like it was a message in code, a dog-whistle howl at the full-moon that whales can hear across ten-thousand miles of ocean. Your song, your picture, your words without a sound, a candle, a prayer, the power of words placed just so. All in a picture, all in a dream of burning clouds and stunted trees clinging to rocks above the claws of mother ocean as she beats herself against the mountains. To be that tree in that thin place between one hell and another with a beautiful view of heaven is no burden but a gift of great price.
Don’t look in to the camera and think of you. Gaze at the tree growing from a crack, crazed by the sun and beaten by the sea standing firm over ten human lifetimes.
Click.
In that one moment you are beautiful and you know it.

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