Initial reflection
Sometimes the journey changes not because the road softens, but because someone walks beside us.
Today’s Poem
The steps fall heavy
on rails of stone and shadow.
The backpack I carry
grew with the days I spent alone,
with the silences I gathered,
sharp little rocks,
with the words I swallowed,
like gum stuck under a shoe.I learned to walk bent,
to breathe slowly
so the weight wouldn’t break me,
so the pain wouldn’t chain me.
Each stone carries my name,
each hurt steals my voice,
each clean cut aims for my tendons.
And still I go on,
like someone crossing a desert
who never finds water,
yet keeps meeting
echoes of herself.Some days the shadow laughs,
or maybe it’s just exhaustion
laughing at me.
And there were days I wanted to quit,
when my own company
was torture, my worst enemy.I learned to resist myself
when that happens.
To hold the wind
even with trembling fingers,
to embrace the cold
as if shielding myself from fear,
and still insist
on not losing hope,
not losing the child-heart.
To greet sadness
like an old acquaintance,
invite her to sit at the table,
share tea and a few gentle words.
To accept her
so one day I might accept myself.
Maybe.Today I know I have wings.
Today I know I have love.
I want to open myself.
Open the wings I’ve used as a shield.
But how does someone surrender
while carrying decades of burdens?
Someone who has lived
a hundred and one pasts?
Someone whose hands know
the sting of abandonment,
and whose heart learned
to beat alone,
quiet, suspicious?Maybe it’s you,
also carrying a backpack full of stones,
bearing scars time never erased,
hurts gagged in silence,
wishing for the same shelter,
the same safe lap.
It will take courage
to recognize each other,
to set a few burdens down,
to disobey old habits,
and at the same time show
everything we are,
even what we hide
from predators and thieves.
Perhaps you’re the one,
and I the one for your wounds.Maybe we’ll walk together,
in a new rhythm
yet to be made,
discovering that stones can be carved,
that the wind blows less cold
when someone holds us,
that shadows, shared,
are no longer punishment
but refuge.Still, every step needs attention,
every embrace, consent,
every smile, patience.
You’re not holding just my hand:
you’re accepting my whole history,
even the hidden child
who took shelter in some distant corner.And if there is surrender,
even shy,
even bruised,
even if loneliness still knocks sometimes,
we’ll move forward with whole hearts,
even if marked.Because what we seek
is not just company.
Not pollen for a day,
but roots that survive winter.
It is someone who knows the road
and chooses to walk it with us
until the stones under our feet
become steps,
and our shoulders learn
to fly.
© Ana Fonseca, 2025
Closing thoughts
If we dare to lay down just one stone, even for a moment, the path begins to shift beneath our feet.
Like the closing thought. The old phrase letting go means that completely. Some stones appear to re-emerge: if detached we don’t hurt. They’re of no consequence. We slip past them like the wind, like the child:)