When Silence Wears the Sky

Poem:

The night does not ask

why the stars return—

it simply opens its velvet palms,

and holds their trembling fire.

I, too, have learned this:

to let what leaves me go,

to cradle what remains,

and call it enough.

Every breath is a bridge,

every wound a river—

yet somewhere between breaking

and becoming,

I find the echo of myself

still singing,

still whole,

still infinite.

So if you see me walking alone

beneath the unfinished moon,

know this—

I am not lonely,

I am listening

to the language

the silence keeps.