Before words, there was listening
before names, a shared breath
your soul remembers
the slow pulse of hidden rivers
you walk barefoot over time that folds like smoke
light moves through you
the way it once moved through forests that no longer stand
soft
unclaimed
still alive in the bones
the ancestors do not pull you backward
their voices a wind through invisible leaves
soft as the turning of the moon
they are neither past nor future
but a loom weaving you into what is yet to come
what is tender now is sacred
emotion bends and bends again
not to break, but to become prism
splintering into everything
you forgot you could feel
nothing here is rushed
even healing knows its season
roots glow in the dark
they always have
you are a crossing of rivers and constellations
a quiet vessel of light
and the unseen hands
are always guiding you home
you are not alone
you never were
°Woodlights Woudlicht
