There comes a moment
when the soul stands quietly
at the edge of its own becoming
and wonders
must the door to freedom
close every door behind it
must the heart choose
between belonging
and becoming whole
yet the oldest wisdom
whispers otherwise
a river does not betray the ocean
by changing its course
a seed does not betray the earth
when it breaks its shell
the moon does not abandon the night
by becoming full
and love
true love
was never meant to be
a room with no windows
the soul must learn
there is a hidden law
written beneath all human attachment
what is truly sacred
does not require the soul
to become smaller
the old self may tremble
when the horizon opens
it may whisper
what will remain
if everything changes
yet the horizon only simply widens
and somewhere beyond
the familiar shape of life
another kind of belonging waits
one that does not demand sameness
one that does not fear transformation
one that can witness a soul becoming
without calling it betrayal
perhaps becoming is revelation
perhaps what falls away
was never love itself
but only the shape
love was once forced to take
there is no holiness
in disappearing for another
there is no sacred vow
that requires the heart
to betray its own truth
the deepest devotion
may be the courage
to stand fully alive
in the presence of another
without disguise
without apology
without asking permission
to exist
and if some cannot remain
beside that becoming
let the parting be mourned
without turning it into a failure
for not every ending
is a punishment
some endings are bridges
some losses are doors
through which the soul
finally learns its own name
and perhaps the great mystery is
what kind of love becomes possible
once the soul no longer abandons itself
then the heart opens
more completely within the world
the beloved remains beloved
the home remains home
the roots remain deep
but the branches
finally remember the sky
and the soul
no longer divided against itself
steps into the widening light
not leaving love
not leaving life
not leaving anyone behind
but arriving at last
where it was always going
home
to love
°Woodlights Woudlicht
