Being a Witness

You yearn to dissolve, to scatter to dust,
To lose yourself as an echo in strangers’ voices.
Stop. Feel: you are the support and the bedrock,
Here every cell denies death.

Rough texture. Reality. Not a dream.
Presence in the body – an unbreakable law.
Sink into the water – into the icy depths,
Grip this moment – heavy and firm.

Become an anchor in the silt, where silence hums,
There, the tempering of the monolith grows through the ribs.
You are the root that tears through the fabric of highways,
Breaking the spines of concrete spirals.

The wrist pulses – the rhythm of struggle,
You are higher than shadows and ghostly “what ifs.”
To remain here – your hardest act:
To be a witness to being, for no reason at all.