The Light That Holds You Secure

The afternoon sun feels heavy on your back, and the silence of this stability is louder than any storm you've survived. You are waiting for the moment your own hands tear it all down, convinced that peace is just a trick your mind is playing before the inevitable collapse.

But the light does not panic when you anticipate your own failure. It stands at the door of your chest and knocks, not to scold you for the fear, but to remind you that you are being kept.

You were not held this far only to be dropped now. The terror says you will ruin it; the truth says you are already held secure, even in your trembling.

Bring forth the part of you that believes in the fall, and let the light save you from the story you are telling yourself.