Rite of Shadow

I learned to hear what is not present, to observe the echo where there was never a cry.

Memory, a wounded compass, led me to faces that no longer mention my name.

Letting go didn't mean forgetting, but rather being reborn, I am what silence lets me be.

Love, ancient rebel of time, calls out within me even when all remains still.

I don't seek to possess, but to shine with purpose, to be a fire that transforms and does not consume.

I walk among my own spirits,
not as a victim, but as an observer.
They dictate poems to me in the mist,
and in their company, finally, I am alive.