Poem:
Stillness, Not Absence
I did not vanish.
I folded.
Like wings that once knew wind
but now rest against the ribs
of something holy.
No energy, they say.
But I say:
the ember does not perform.
It waits.
Antisocial, they say.
But I say:
the sanctuary does not apologize
for its silence.I am not broken.
I am paused.
And in this pause,
a vow breathes.
© Jaime Pearson 2024. All rights reserved.
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