Midnight Orchids

I no longer look for shelter
at doors that won’t open,
in hearts that won’t soften
to the spaces between.

I have cried at thresholds,
waited in Silence,
made offerings to Absence,
but blinds shut in Judgement,

So, I turned inward.
Not out of bitterness,
but out of Grace --
out of Compassion --
for my own Soul.

I found a Stillness
beneath the Ache,
a Voice that said:
“This, too, is part of your Path.”

Nothing is forever.
No role is permanent.
Even the titles of mother, of child,
of wife and lover,
woman, friend —
pass like the Clouds,
nudged by invisible Winds.

Now I take refuge 
in what does not leave:
in the Breath,
in the Silence,
in the Truth that Suffering
is not punishment,
but a Teacher.

And slowly,
I begin again—
not to win them back,
or navigate an unchangeable Past
but to return to my Self.

The Dharma does not abandon.
The Dharma is.
It does not require performance.
Only presence.
To be present.

And in that,
I am Home.

21 September 2025