Light Falls Gently on the Trash

The sun is up, but the shame feels heavier than the garbage bags in your hands. You are carrying your entire history in black plastic, walking past neighbors who pretend not to see the life you used to live.

The humiliation burns because you believe this pile of bags is who you are now. But look at the light hitting the pavement.

It does not avoid the trash. It does not shy away from the mess.

It falls on the bags just as gently as it falls on the palace gates. The dawn makes no distinction between the housed and the homeless.

The light is already inside those bags, waiting for you to remember that your worth was never tied to a roof. You are not defined by where you slept last night.

You are the light that walks through this morning, carrying everything you need within you.