I was touched

I was touched— not by hands,
but by something older than language,
something that traveled
through bone and memory
to find me.

It rose like a forgotten river
from the places where my ancestors
had buried their grief, their silence,
their unspoken wounds.
And when it reached me, it cracked open the doors
I did not know I was holding shut.

I felt generations, their ache, their hope,
their unfinished prayers—
gather around me – not to burden,
but to release.
As if they had been waiting for someone brave or ready enough
to stop running, to finally turn toward the pain
and say,
“Ok I am ready to do my bit. – It finally rests with me.”

So I breathed, and with that breath,
A thousand shadows loosened.

I cried, and their tears flowed through mine.
I sat tending to the fire in the cold..

And was warmed by the fire – inside and out
and stories that lived in the ancient wood..finally rose
towards the skies..light and free
We sat and sang songs to each other…of each each other
until the shared remembrance became a balm…

I forgave, and their chains fell quietly to the earth.
And in that moment I knew – my healing was not mine alone.

I was freeing the past,
untangling the knot of old stories
so that the future…could run unbound, lighter on its feet

I stood there— trembling, emptied, reborn,
Baptised.
Feeling the weight dissolve from my cold shoulders
and joy bubble up in hot springs

The burden of carrying what was never meant
to continue.
Now, when I walk, I walk lighter.
When I breathe, I breathe for the ones
who have to live with held breaths.

And when I rise, I rise on the strength
of those who came before—
and for those who will come after,
never needing to carry what I have finally
laid to rest.

I was touched…by grace.
And once was enough..for many lifetimes.
Rhea