Night Taught Us
We were taught
to walk with the dark,
not against it.
To keep our breath
slow,
our listening wide.
Endurance was learned
by staying present
through long hours,
by trusting
What does not rush?
Compassion meant
standing close,
sharing warmth,
asking nothing
to change.
Protection lived
in awareness—
a steady body,
a calm heart,
a promise
not to abandon.
The ancestors carried this
without words.
They moved gently
and the world
made room.
What remains with us
is this quiet truth:
strength listens,
care stays,
and the night
knows our names.
Night Taught Us
We were taught
to walk with the dark,
not against it.
To keep our breath
slow,
our listening wide.
Endurance was learned
by staying present
through long hours,
by trusting
What does not rush?
Compassion meant
standing close,
sharing warmth,
asking nothing
to change.
Protection lived
in awareness—
a steady body,
a calm heart,
a promise
not to abandon.
The ancestors carried this
without words.
They moved gently
and the world
made room.
What remains with us
is this quiet truth:
strength listens,
care stays,
and the night
knows our names.