Where the silence brought me

I came back to a city I once called home.

Same skyline, same sea, but I am not the same.

There was a fire.

Long after the flames died down,

I was left to carry what couldn't be burned.

The silence was sharp,

but I learned how to sit with it.

Time passed,

and the world kept moving.

Friends said, "start again."

So I did.

Vancouver feels familiar and distant.

The mornings are softer,

The loneliness is more bearable when I name it.

There’s still paperwork on the kitchen counter.

It's still dust from the move.

Still nerves before the next thing

but also gratitude.

Deep and quiet and real.

Glory, still, to God

for the return.

For carrying me through.

For reminding me

that beginning again

is not pretending nothing happened

but honouring what did

and choosing to keep going.

Sometimes, what ignites the flame matters less than what it leaves behind.