She Rises: Remembering Under The Stars

Welcome,

Dear souls,

To another spoken word soul offering.

She rises,

A remembrance beneath the stars.

There are moments the soul remembers,

Even when the mind forgets.

Moments when the rain softens the earth just enough to open the cracks in the human shell and let the light slip through.

I was sitting still,

Searching for Italy on a screen,

But really I was searching for myself in the echoes of another lifetime.

A woman who once walked cobbled paths with olive skin kissed by the sun.

A laugh that echoed off stone walls,

Wine in her cup and a song in her soul.

And suddenly I knew,

This love for that place wasn't imagined,

It was remembered.

I sat barefoot on wood that once lived as a tree,

Damp from rain pulsing beneath me like a heartbeat.

I looked at my tree,

My witness to all these awakenings,

And I listened.

Not just to the wind or the distant hum of traffic,

I listened to the call,

The one I can't ignore anymore.

She doesn't come too soon,

But she always comes,

And this time she came as me.

Not despite the wine in my glass,

But alongside it.

Not despite the soft ache of being in between,

But because of it.

It's not about numbing anymore,

It never was.

It's about holding both,

The pain and the promise,

The body and the divine,

The ache and the alchemy.

So I rise,

Not perfect,

But whole.

Not polished,

But present.

And in rising,

I remember.

I was never meant to be less,

Not here,

Not now.

This is the return,

Not to something new,

But to something ancient,

Something eternal.

And tonight,

Beneath the stars,

I whispered back,

I am here.

I remember.

I rise.

I rise.