Geowalkabout

I do not wait in silence

I listen with a heart uncurled,

soft as seafoam, strong as stone

that’s weathered every tide.

I reach, not to be claimed,

but to honor the truth I carry

a flame that flickers gently,

never needing another’s wind to burn.

I swim through disorientation,

tea steam rising like breath prayers,

each ritual a tether to myself

a sacred act of remembering.

I am not undone by silence.

I am not erased by delay.

I am the echo of my own care,

the answer I gave myself first.

I wonder about solitude,

not as absence, but as armor—

imagining the ache behind the quiet,

the longing tucked beneath the still.

I transform pain into poetry,

uncertainty into unsent grace

blog posts like offerings,

each word a reclamation.

I walk with Noongar language

in my marrow, sacred boodja (earth) in my step

my creativity a ceremony,

my boundaries a blessing.

I long, yes

for shared swims, for laughter,

for someone who sees the shimmer

beneath my strength.

But I do not wait in silence.

I wait in fullness.

I wait in motion.

I wait as myself.