The Sharper Parts

I’ve learned the difference between noise and presence.

And...

Noise is easy..

a quick ripple on still water,

a pebble tossed just to see it break the surface.

It looks like something is happening,

but the river doesn’t keep the shape of the stone.

Presence, though..

...that’s heavier...

It leaves an imprint in the soil.

It stays after the footsteps are gone.

There was a time your presence carried weight in all parts of me..

Like a steady hand...

you turned the soil so rich seeds could take root.

I knew the sound of your approach,

and I counted it as part of the season’s rhythm.

But lately...

all I get are shadows.

Light touches, hollow gestures,

the kind that vanish the moment I turn my head.

It’s the equivalent of watering a field

once in the drought

and expecting green shoots to grow from the memory.

You should know this:

the core of me is not an open market.

It’s a wild stretch of land that only allows

what proves itself willing to survive the elements.

Wind, frost, summer scorch..

those aren’t punishments.

They are the natural tests

of anything that wants to last here.

Check-ins? They are like sparrows

flitting through the sky for a crumb.

Sure and cute...

They are nice to see, but they don’t change the landscape.

What I need is the hawk in you..

To be.. 

deliberate, certain, present when it matters,

returning not for scraps, but because

this is its territory too.

And here’s the part that might cut through your core:

you are fading...

Not with drama, not with fire,

but like a trail being swallowed by undergrowth.

Each day you wait,

the path back narrows,

the branches knit tighter,

and soon... soon.. 

I will be gone entirely..

not because I slammed the gate,

but because nature always reclaims

what’s left untended.

If you want to remain more than a story I once told,

the time is now.

STEP UP!

Not later, not in another round of

“just checking in.”

Show up like you mean it.

Plant your feet.

Turn your words into something

that can weather the seasons.

Because once the frost comes,

the ground will lock,

the roots within me will stop searching for you,

and I will not thaw them again.

When that day arrives,

your absence won’t hurt me like it did before.. 

Because...

Now it will simply be the truth.