At the Edge of Reflection

She kneels where the water remembers everything-
where stone meets silence,
and the sky folds into itself,
learning how to let go.

Her hair, touched by dusk and violet,
falls like a curtain drawn
over a world too loud to hold.

Here, at the edge of things,
she does not drown-
She listens.

The water does not ask why she came.
It simply opens,
dark and patient,
the way all true things do.

She is not broken.
She is bending-
the way rivers bend
before they find the sea.

And in the hush
between breath and echo,
something ancient stirs-
a knowing,
soft as settling sediment,
that even the heaviest stones
are carried,
eventually,
by the current.

So she lingers a little longer
where land loosens its hold,
and learns from the water,
How to be still
and moving
all at once.

Object number

014.091