Time slips, a quiet tide,

leaving soft imprints on the shore.

I watch, fading into the current,

as you rise,

a sharp light in a fractured sky.

The weight we carried

now shapes your hands—

steady,

resilient.

The earth leans toward you,

asking to be healed.

I believe

you will answer.

Reply to this note

Please Login to reply.

Discussion

No replies yet.