moving backward.
The door is open,
yet I cannot see it.
The weight inside my mind
begins to spin me.
Please.
My sight blurs,
turning inward.
The ground beneath me
feels uneven, untrustworthy.
The thickness of my thoughts
brings me to a halt.
Please.
My hearing is clouded,
filtered away from truth.
The path stretches long,
winding endlessly around doubt.
Silence cries out
in uncomprehension.
Please.
It parted the confusion of the dream,
loosening what tangled itself
around my rest.
It moved between barriers
even in daylight,
slipping past the places
I thought were sealed.
Here—
the way was cleared.
It confirmed intuition
in the gentle waves of thought,
the knowing that doesn’t shout
but never leaves.
It embraced power
inside confident moments,
steady, unforced,
true.
It allowed the peaceful presence
of an inner heaven—
not distant,
not imagined,
but alive within me.
Here, again,
the way was cleared.