one day, soon

when my breath stopped i could see beyond the mountain and through the trees, and i found her there, dancing in the leaves, dancing the pieces of me, which i had forgotten, gathering them from the dust and dirt, bringing them up into the air to give them space and a beat of their own to echo out into the world, again and again

i watched from a distance, a tear now and then gently cascading down my cheek into the corner of my mouth, over my breast and onto the ground where i stood, to pool at my feet and, over time, create an ocean of tears to drown myself in for a moment, to weigh me down, to draw me into the depth of darkness, for me to witness there, the gift of the deep sea

my body surfaced only when the floating called for my eyes to shine into the sun once more, and there she was again, dancing before me, on the surface of the water, splashing my cheeks with the movement of waves beneath her bare feet

i looked at her and she looked at me, we laughed for a small moment, before her dancing carried her to the moon and our heartbeats settled me back to the bottom of the ocean for the moonlight of her wisdom to meet me there, one day, soon

one day, soon came to being 13 June 2026 at a writing workshop facilitated by Spiri Tsintziras, author, writer and mentor. The invitation: to write freely for ten minutes, to see what comes. I put pen to paper, opened my heart, and this prose-like poem, one day, soon arrived.