like the breeze blows on seedlings
kindling them skyward.
The sadness weighed me
adding wisdom not yet lived
acceptance of grief not yet given.
It was breaking,
the way earth pushes through chickenwire
the way crème brule offers itself to the tongue
the way lovers are coaxed open
the way wise men are pried from their families.
I knew then this stillness
that I’ve found again in faith
in the courage to feel everything
ripen under my witness
to feel sad and grounded and broken
all at once
and know I am home
that I am here to greet me
that I never left
yet know more now
having been away.