I swallowed my saliva.
I closed my eyes
to say what had followed me
and walked before me
for many years.

Did you know those thin twigs
pierced the cells of my skin?
It didn’t hurt.
A miracle of creation,
a tree is growing inside me.

It sent out shoots into the blue above
and roots deep into the earth.
So many times I awakened to life.
Even more often,
I lost leaves, leaving them behind
like worn-out words
and sweet pauses of silence,
the calm after inconsolable sobbing.

Living tissue,
swollen with anger, burst again.
Oceans spilled.
Fire tried to burn joy and hope.
Watching as sensitivity curled,
like a frightened puppy.

I remember the child
and the grown woman.
I remember everything
except the words.

When the artificial lights go out,
you will see
how much strength you still carry,
how many living suns burn within you,
waiting to give warmth.

Even when everything screams
and your tissues pulse with fear,
still, you live
with your voice,
with your thoughts.
It is not the end.
It is night coming.
I do not say goodbye.
I say good night.