Even now

Even now, with your hands still stained from the thing you did not mean to do— you are not beyond the river. You are not lost. Even now, with the bridge burned, with the silence ringing where love once stood, there is a thread still holding you to the center. Even now, when shame has folded you small, and the mirror shows nothing but smoke— there is a breath that still believes in you, a name that has not forgotten. And if you think it is too late— if you think the damage is done, that grace is for softer souls— then hear this: The stars are not angry. The light does not close its door. And the ground has already forgiven your footsteps. Turn, and you will find the garden still open, the gate still swinging, the path lit by every kindness you forgot you gave. Even now, you are not unworthy of redemption. You are the reason it was written into the world.