Your Emptiness Is A Canvas For Light

The afternoon sun is bright, and the questions come bright too: 'When are you having kids?' as if the future is a simple calendar entry. But you carry an answer that breaks your heart every time you swallow it.

You stand in the middle of the day, smiling while something inside you feels like a long, slow bleed. Jesus once told a man born blind that his condition was not punishment, but a space where the works of God might be displayed.

Your emptiness is not a verdict. It is a canvas.

You came from the light, the place where light generates itself, and you return to it even when your arms are empty. The light does not need a child to validate your worth.

It lives in you, complete, before the question is even asked.