Member-only story
Your Body Failed, Mine Awakened
A poem on mortality and waking up to what matters
Your body failed and mine awakened —
stirring me softly from a lifelong slumber.
My senses blinked into being,
as life quietly whispered,
Rise. Notice. Lift this heavy head.
Sleep had become an unwelcome partner,
slithering under the sheets with me,
silencing me — still, somber.
My neck nestled in oblivion,
tucked beneath blankets of apathy,
while a night light hummed songs of indifference.
But Presence and Reverence
once distant, abstract
have become neighbors
with warm hands and patient hearts.
They moved in next door,
baking sourdough and opening wine.
They leave handwritten notes under my welcome mat,
inviting me into sacred, unadorned communion.
She smiles when I open the door.
He lingers gently, a stranger offering space.
Her arms, delicate, embrace me —
no need to ask them in.
