I am not a landing strip

to rest your plane at

before you take off to your destination

I am the places you call home

I am your feet in the warm sand

I am the Sun kissing

the spine of your back.

I am not the exquisite exhibit

I am the whole museum

the statues

artifacts

glistening jewelry

and all the history

that comes along with them.

I am not the numbers

in my bank account

solely cents and dollars

stacking

up

in a computerized system

I am the wealth of my soul.

I am not an employee

simply stratified

into my job description

I am a creator

an artist

a fighter

and a lover.

I am not

something whose worth

can be determined

by looking at

simplistic digits on a scale

for I was crafted in a currency

that can’t be calculated.

–a precious stone that can’t be purchased.

• Author Details

Emma Butterfield Administrator

•Portland based ecstatic dancer and yogi with a quirky sense of humor who loves the outdoors most of the time • Creative Nonfiction and Poetry• Healing backwards and forwards in time• ~My writing is something I pour my heart and energy into. Please keep this in mind and do not share without asking permission.~

email

ecarolineb95@icloud.com