bloom in the dark

The ones who love you

lay lanterns at your feet,

soft circles of certainty,

warm with their wanting

for you to walk a gentle road.

They speak in futures

as if they have lived yours,

as if your pulse

matches the rhythm

of their remembering.

But sometimes kindness

points the wrong direction.

Sometimes the hand that steadies you

also turns you from the path

that only your bones can hear.

Love can be loud

and still not know.

Even the truest voices

carry echoes of their fears,

their dreams dressed up

as your destiny.

So thank them,

hold their lanterns close,

but trust the dark a little too,

for it may be the only place

your own light

learns how to bloom.