Crossing
The river closes in like a quiet corridor of breath. She wades forward, carrying the weight of a shore she has not seen yet. Palms lean toward her as though listening for her next decision. Every ring of water around her legs feels like a question: how far will you go? .
Haven
On the path, her back is a small, steady compass between the trees. Later, she stands at the edge where fog and foliage fold into one another. The jungle does not open into a harbor, yet something in her finally docks. Held by leaves, she realises the distant sail she searched for was always her own courage.
