When She Appears..

This morning, I felt her presence not as a memory, but as if she was standing just behind my eyes. Her shoulders were small, her voice almost hesitant, but the weight of her gaze was steady. She didn’t come with answers. She came with a question: “Do you still see me when it’s loud?” And in that moment, I knew the work was not about searching for her, but about listening when she chooses to appear.