01/26/2026
The Circle That Breathes
They stand where water remembers
how to return.
No one leads.
No one follows.
The horse lowers its head.
The moon stays centered.
What moves here
moves slowly—
hair, cloth, breath—
so the old names do not scatter.
Endurance is shared weight.
It bends without breaking.
Compassion is the space
left open
so another may stand.
Protection does not face outward.
It forms a circle
and listens.
The ancestors taught this
by coming back
again and again
until the way was clear.
What holds them
is not light,
not water,
not time.
It is the agreement
to remain together
while the world passes through.
