Borrowed Words: The Silence Beyond Wings
I am no bird, yet something vast within
Remembers flight before the world had form.
Not bound by net nor name, I slip the skin
Of fear, and rise through stillness, through the storm.
No hand can hold what was not made to stay.
The soul is older than its borrowed breath.
It comes to learn, to love, then fades away—
Not into loss, but into deeper depth.
Freedom is not leaving, but returning:
A fire unlit by time, yet never cold.
I walk where silence teaches hearts to burn,
And every ending is the tale retold.
I am no bird—yet all the winds recall
That I was once the sky that held them all.
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