Held Without Sound

Held Without Sound

We learned early

that the earth does not rush.

It carries

and does not complain.

Endurance came to us

as patience—

the will to stay

when leaving would be lighter.

Compassion was taught

by touch,

by standing close

without asking anything back.

Protection lived

in quiet choices:

a body turning sideways,

a breath taken slowly,

a watchful stillness.

The ancestors spoke little.

Their strength

was how gently

they bore what mattered.

What remains with us

is not a command,

but a way—

to hold life carefully

and not let go too soon.