Quiet Gifts

Quiet Gifts

As I carried my secondborn,
tethered to a trembling body,
the one who promised
chose another door.

Two small worlds
I was meant to protect—
shattered.
And I bore witness
to what I could not save.

I came undone,
drifting into a void:
vacant, voiceless, waiting.

Emptiness
folded itself into me.

Days passed,
then thousands.

In the blur of time,
somewhere
I cannot name,
something holy
met me there.

The end
softened
into a beginning.

I found a space
no one else could fill—
a horizon drawn from my own breath,
a home
where I recognized myself — for the first time.

The void became a vessel:
held light
I forgot I carried,
held shadows
I no longer fear—
only continue to meet.

My own pulse,
in trust,
with life.

Here, the journey continues—
learning, unlearning,
letting what comes
reveal
its quiet gifts.

By Katia Pershin