The Geometry of Healing.

Today, the map is not a sudden star,

But the slow, careful geography of what we are.

The earth shifts, but you did not collapse.

You only fractured into overlapping laps.

Of time—a thousand little yesterdays,

That needed quiet, unhurried ways.

And healing is not a flash of light,

But the daily, diligent drafting of the right.

Angle for your spine, the simple, small equation.

Of breath drawn in, escaping slow rotation.

You thought the repair would be a flawless pane,

A clean, abrupt dismissal of the pain.

Instead, it's the Kintsugi of the soul—

Where golden lines embrace the broken whole.

The trauma gave you edges, sharp and steep;

Healing is the promise you must keep:

To let the sand of time and kindness find

And soften every corner of your mind.

You are not finished. You are still being built.

But the foundation holds the strength you split.

And now, each soft breath is a conscious prayer,

A quiet, geometric proof that you are there.

Thought Lantern