Eclipse of the Self

Ruvaani

I dissolved in the shadow of my own becoming,

where every heartbeat was an echo of absence,

and every breath a question unspoken.

The world pressed against my ribs,

but in the hollow between despair and forgetting,

a seed trembled—

ancient, patient, luminous.

From it rose fire unbidden,

not to burn what remained,

but to weave the fragments of me

into a new geometry of being.

I walked through the ruins of yesterday,

not seeking light, but becoming it,

each step an unmaking and a return,

each scar a hymn,

each tear a river that bore me home.

And when dawn finally leaned into my chest,

I did not rise as I was—

I rose as I had always been:

a soul forged in shadow,

tempered in loss,

and reborn

in the quiet, unrelenting brilliance of myself.

More from Ruvaani ↓

• @ruvaani.unclaimed on Instagram
• Her book, The Sunken Daffodil, is out now

Mentioned in this episode:

Write After: National Poetry Month with One Poem Only

Write After is a way to encourage poets to listen and write, and use National Poetry Month to highlight how listening to poetry makes us better poets. I know I write the best when I’m surrounded by beautiful poetry–it’s part of the reason I created this podcast, and I want to encourage others to share this practice. We'll get started in April. You can share to #WriteAfterOPO.

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