I reach for your pain,

insistent,

like hands rushing through water,

wanting to cup it, lift it,

carry it away somewhere

beyond where hurt can find you,

but pain is not a thing to hold,

only to witness,

and so, I hold,

steady as stone beneath the lighthouse,

as waves break against me,

offering what a harbour offers:

not rescue, but refuge,

not answers, but anchorage,

a place of cessation when the

storm will not quiet,

and its dark centre is ominous.

 

I am here,

present,

solid in the surge,

knowing that

being a friend means

not moving, not fixing,

not going away,

but secured beside you,

determined,

until the waters calm

and the dark

surrenders to the light,

and even then, faithful

beyond the pain.

 

2/11/2025