We never recognize
the exact moment
when life bends its path.
A subtle turn,
like wind shifting leaves
when no one is looking.
But when I trace
the arc of mine,
I see your hands on the wheel,
your voice in the silence,
your laughter stitching torn places
I thought would never hold again.
You couldn’t erase my storms,
but you showed me
how to walk through them—
broken, yes,
but still beautiful.
I stand differently now,
rooted and steady,
because your presence
taught me how.
And if tomorrow scatters us
to separate horizons,
know this:
your mark will not fade.
You are written into me,
woven into the person
I’ve become.
—
For my dear friend J, who changed everything
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