September 22 – Quiet Anchor

Morning broke with ache —

a body unsettled,

flu and nausea whispering

through closed doors.

Her rush swept past my words,

yet I still lit incense,

still sipped honey,

still tried to carry quiet faith.

The road outside was unkind —

vomit’s sting in the air,

gossip circling as I crossed,

a scolding seatmate

when I sat too close.

Embarrassment burned,

but I kept walking,

kept breathing.

Then came gentler notes —

a colleague’s honesty,

another’s fragile tears,

a reminder that struggle

lives in many hearts.

I spoke, I shared,

and the weight felt less heavy.

A quiet listener heard me —

a door opened

for tomorrow’s early leave.

Small victories hidden

in a stormy day.

Through it all,

I held steady —

closing doors when needed,

opening heart where I could.

One breath, one step,

still moving forward.