Begin Again [a poem]
When the sky folds inward,
heavy with hush,
and your own reflection falters
beneath the dimming of its light—
when the remnants of yesterday
cling to the hollows of breath
like smoke in still air—
Be still.
Inhale not urgency,
but the quiet sanctity of grace.
Let the pause between heartbeats
speak what time cannot touch:
You are not behind.
You are not broken.
You are becoming—still.

