Dorothy Vera: Where Gentle Strength Begins

Photo by Molly

Where Gentle Strength Begins

The old ones taught

that power does not always raise its voice.

Sometimes it kneels beside sorrow

and waits until the heart can breathe again.

The earth knows this kind of strength.

She carries every fallen leaf,

every forgotten footprint,

and still makes room for another spring.

I was told that what is sacred

should never be owned—

only honored,

only protected,

only passed forward with clean hands.

So when grief comes,

I do not ask it to leave quickly.

I let it sit near the fire

until it remembers its true name.

For pain, when carried with love,

can become wisdom.

And memory, when held without anger,

can become a path.

One day we all return

to the same quiet ground.

Until then,

may we walk softly,

protect what cannot protect itself,

and leave behind a kindness

strong enough to outlive our names.

— Dorothy Vera