The Mountain Moves in You [a poem]
You entreated the mountain to yield—
to unfurl its edges,
to cleave a gentler way.
But the stone held firm,
aloof in its stillness.
Yet you climbed.
Continue reading “The Mountain Moves in You [a poem]”
The Fire Didn’t Burn You Down [a poem]
The fire did not burn you down.
Though it arrived without warning—
swift, unrelenting,
devouring the edges of what once seemed enduring—
still, you remained.
Not untouched.
Not inviolate.
But whole, in a way the flames could never unmake.
You did not vanish beneath the ruin.
You were refined within it.
On the Days That Hurt [a poem]
On the days that hurt—
when the body speaks in softened ache,
and each breath arrives
like a delicate task performed in shadow—
let this be enough.
Let it be enough
that you woke to the turning of light,
even if it did not reach you.
Let it be enough
that you stayed,
though the hours unfolded slowly,
without welcome or ease.
Still Carried [a poem]
You were never asked to be unyielding—
never summoned to rise without faltering,
nor to walk unshaken across uncertain ground.
Only to breathe—
gently, if unevenly—
when breath felt more like a burden than a gift.
Only to place one foot before the other,
not with assurance,
but with the quiet resolve
of one who continues
simply because they must.
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