follow your finger to your sternum. trace the path of gratitude, blame, the tremble and dance. remember water, its indelible, fierce journey of least resistance. sometimes through walls. sometimes through other water. remember that you have done this before: been born into a sadness that is haunted, pure, even surprising. in your gut, the quiet has a sound. it has to find its way there. we are growing under the canopy. birds will find a cool place to nest. grief will settle, detach, flow downstream. what’s left, small packages, a surprise you can only give yourself. you are there in the Mediterranean blue. you have choreographed your journey. be alive. be awake for this.