Becoming

Your lowest fall, the darkest space,

May be your soul’s most sacred place,

For when the heart begins to break,

It breaks the shell for waking’s sake.

We curse the night, we fear the rain,

But growth is born through grief and strain,

And only when the light is gone,

We learn to be what we leaned on.

The mind wants calm, a steady shore,

But souls were made to seek for more,

They long to stretch, to shed their skin,

Not stay asleep, locked deep within.

As someone said: life’s true st part,

Is simply this: to live by heart,

Yet still we fight the silent tide,

That pulls us deeper, not to hide.

Cathrine Hottran 2025