Fear is not carried by tomorrow
it rises from the bones of yesterday
from ash rings and old fires
it drifts from the afterglow of what has been
starlight bruised by distance
a constellation rearranged by loss
it gathers where something sacred
slipped through mortal hands
where light thinned suddenly
and the soul learned gravity
when something was taken by the ominous
when our being learned the cost of loving
when the heart was taught without warning
how fragile its anchors were
fear is not prophecy
it is an echo
a comet of memory
echoing through blood and breath
we mistake it for foresight
we call it caution
name it intuition
we dress it in the language of vigilance
nevertheless it is only bygone times
becoming a dark star we orbit
those who came before us knew this sound
they felt it in storms, in hunger, in silence
they braided it into stories
turned shivering into medicine
what was nearly lost
still trembles in us
what was lost entirely
becomes a guide, not a wound
so fear stands at the edge of now
it arrives to teach us where the altar is of what means enough
to protect, to heal
listen closely
beneath the shaking is a blessing
the ancestors are lighting the path again
and fear, at last, learns how to become courage
°Woodlights Woudlicht
