Why is it a place of division that renders me whole?

It was in the wild I found peace.

It was standing on the open hillside peering out that I heard the gentle heartbeat of the land; quiet, steady and ancient; it is dancing amongst its ancient stones that the spirit of the land rose up to touch me and soothed me with its wild words. It knows of the fevered intensity that lives inside me, the tides that cannot be tamed or gentled. It knows the secret messages written on my skin and the silent words that issue from my tongue. We know each other from long ago; our untamed words already said.

It was amongst the wildflowers and smoke, that I felt the turbulent waters of my heart rushing pell-mell into a future I didn’t know how to define, trying to find a tangible definition of themselves. It was there, in the wild northern winds I felt the coded messages of my pounding heart tumble and stumble into the daylight; disoriented and unsure of how to express themselves in such a loud, brash world.

It was standing in this place that I found myself open to you. My naked heart vulnerable with stories etched over it in languages I find myself incapable of articulating although their messages ring bright and clear. It stands open to you and with my feet planted firmly in the roots of an ancient past, I tremblingly open myself and bare my heart for you to read it, not knowing whether you can see the encrypted stories that are branded upon me. Where is your rosetta stone? My heart, my soul and my purpose is written here as sacred as an ancient parchment. You read me as though you were born speaking my language.

I am a child of chaos. I hold secrets in my skin.