At My Parents’ Feet: The Promise I Became

I have come home, as promised to the mountains that hold prayer,

to the silence that once knew my breath.

I bring with me now

not what I longed to bring,

but the promise I carried

and the becoming it required of me.

I waited.

I hoped.

I loved as I was taught with patience, with truth, with faith.

I stayed loyal.

I kept my word.

And when promises did not walk beside me, I continued to walk with grace.

Now I stand complete

 no longer searching,

no longer waiting,

no longer asking the sky for signs. What had to be lived, has been lived.

What had to be learned, has been learned.

For the pain received, I forgive.

For the silence that thundered, I release.

For what fractured trust, I bless and let go.

This was not an ending

it was a lesson written between lifetimes,

not a destination,

but an awakening.

So I lay the promise here, gently not as one broken,

but as one carried to its final breath. Not to remember what fell apart, but to honor what took root within.

Bless what came.

Bless what could not stay.

What once carried light

is returned to God in peace.

And bless this beginning

not as a soul waiting,

but as a soul restored.

When the journey resumes,

the past will not follow.

Only love remains not for a person, but for life itself.

Let the ground receive these tears. Let the wind loosen this sorrow.

Let prayer finish what grief began.

And let heaven bear witness:

I am free.

The chapter is closed.

The circle complete.

And in the quiet that follows,

I rise not from ashes,

but from understanding

to dream again

and walk toward the light.

(And so, in the quiet, life begins again.)

Ysomi