Instructions for Feeling Small on Purpose

When life grows tall as walls around you,

your thoughts pace, trapped and stone-heavy—

come with me.

.

Take my hands,

and follow me

into the lands of silken grass.

.

I'll show you how to become small.

.

This exercise requires night,

all artificial world left behind.

.

Lay beside me,

let the dew trickle down your back.

.

Look up at the cosmic lights,

older than the lives around.

Some already gone but still arriving—

Fossils of fire.

.

The stars tremble for those

who dare remove their names,

and arrive without titles

where time itself comes late.

.

Come—

Count the lights until your eyes fail.

Measure your worry in light-years.

Where's your deadline in the sky?

.

Our faults are thick, thicker than blood,

but never thicker than the Milky Way.

.

The universe does not need panic.

It does not hurry or judge.

It was busy before language.

.

Let your heart beat louder than distance,

stay until eras fill the hours,

until you feel small as dust

slipping through fingers.

.

The sky might not be lit at night,

rain might interrupt the lesson.

Do not worry, sister dear—

the stars still work for you remotely.

.

And when you rise

there will be grass stuck on your neck,

cold air in your lungs,

and enough space inside you

to walk away.

.

Come, sister — I’ll take your hand.