Poem: I dream in languages no one around me can understand.

I dream in languages no one around me can understand.

I walked through worlds
trying to explain
while people passed by
with grocery lists,
job titles,
small talk,
weather reports,
their eyes already moving on
before I finished speaking.

My needs,
my feelings,
my tenderness—
unnoticed,
unrecognized.

A foreigner
in family,
in love,
in the world.

I kept looking outward
for the mirror

I needed to see myself
clear enough
to finally see myself reflected back whole.

To see the rivers in me
stretching all the way to the ocean.

To see the mountains,
the valleys,
the plains.

To see how I expand
from sunrise to sunset
without apology.

How I contain multitudes.

How I rise through the heavens
and dive into the depths
people work to avoid

To suppress.

Largely,
everyone stays near the surface.

Cleaner there.
Organized there.

Lives arranged
through appointments,
duties,
institutionalized care,
job descriptions,
boxes checked.

Job titles.

Relationship titles.

Categories.

It keeps our worlds safe and that is ok.

So I went to the forest and the ocean instead.

I sat with the creatures
who understand
that sitting

quietly

for minutes that feel like hours

is eternal life.

I have been
listening to birds,
smelling the chances of rain in the air,
feeling wind move through leaves,
Realizing how much of it is enough.

The four-legged ones know.

They know
that seeking out the herbs to greet each morning
is living.

That moss belongs on the path.

That cool earth,
warm grass,
dew,
desert,
storms,
silence—
all deserve presence.

Nothing needs to justify itself
to be worthy of love.

And largely,
I am on my own.

But inside that knowing
there is a strange sweetness.

Sweet freedom.

Nothing is wrong with me.

Nothing is wrong with them.

I simply speak
a different emotional language.

I live in a landscape
many people pass through
without fully seeing.

I stand with others.
I care deeply.
I remain loyal.
I shelter what I can.

But I do not always receive
the same in return.

And that is sad sometimes.

But it is no longer confusing.

So I will stay close
to the living world.

To the birds,
the gardens,
the soft animals,
the shifting sky,
the quiet paths.

They have always understood me.

And finally,
I understand too.

Where I stand.

Where I have been standing all along.

And that is okay.

I had to keep myself safe and I had to experience myself fully. And that is ok too.