The Road That Knows Her Breath The night does not question her direction. It opens, as it always has, to those who listen with their whole body. The old teachings say movement is a prayer— each step a promise kept, Each pause in a lesson accepted. She carries both without counting them. What guides her is not speed, nor the wish to arrive. It is memory traveling forward, the quiet courage of continuing When the path asks for trust. The ancestors ride within her breath, not behind, not ahead, but beside— where fear loosens its grip And resolve grows steady. This journey is not an escape. It is belonging in motion. A reminder spoken by the earth itself: those who move with respect are never lost. 🎨Artist and storyteller: Dorothy Vera