The carved stones smiled
They had memorised my footsteps
Before I arrived.
I sat before this ancient wheel
Its stone ribs holding time
The way my heartbeat holds silence
And something within me loosened
Not new
But remembered.
What is this comfort
That rises unannounced
Why does the air accept me
Lke it has waited
Patient and unblinking
For my returned footsteps?
I have leaned
Against these carvings before
In another name
Another skin
My fingers tracing
The same curves of history
While the sun spilled gold on a younger face.
Perhaps I was loved here.
Not once
But in echoes
In whispers pressed into stone
In glances of unfinished hums
That stayed stuck
Between the spokes of this wheel.
There is a pull
Not forward
But inward
Like a known melody
With an erased beginning.
And I ask the wheel
Quietly
Almost afraid to be answered.
Is this belonging
Or is this a return?
Why do you remind me
What it is to be held here?
March 23, 2026