In the shadows of solitude, You were there,

your light broke through the trenches of despair,

in the anguish of illness, frail and worn,

you were my anchor, in the eye of the storm.

Beneath the soil, where light can’t reach,

an ancient web threads its weave,

a silent pulse, a wordless speech,

where roots and mycelium, astute, perceive.

The stillness is arresting,
and I melt,
into the quiet,
where even the sharpest edges soften,
and the world sheds its weight.