The Marsh That Remembers Her

(Verse 1 ) The water dreamed her first, before she ever came— A silhouette of maybe, stitched from twilight’s quiet flame. She steps where echoes gather, soft as unspoken breath, And every ripple knows her, though she hasn’t chosen yet. (Chorus ) The Marsh remembers versions she has never lived at all— A girl of light, a girl of dusk, a girl who will not fall. She is almost in the silver, she is maybe in the reeds, She is not yet in the choosing, where the mirrored future bleeds. (Verse 2 ) Her shadow walks beside her, but it doesn’t match her feet; It lingers in the cattails, humming secrets incomplete. The mist curls like a question, brushing gently at her spine, As if the world is asking which reflection will be mine? (Chorus ) The Marsh remembers versions she has never lived at all— A girl of warmth, a girl of want, a girl who hears the call. She is almost in the shimmer, she is maybe in the deep, She is not yet in the naming, where the hidden longings sleep. (Bridge) A lantern drifts across the water, glowing with her fear; Another drifts behind it, lit with something drawing near. She reaches—just a moment—then the surface folds away, Showing futures made of moonlight she is not prepared to say. (Verse 3) The reeds begin to whisper in a voice she almost knows, A name that isn’t spoken, but the trembling water shows. She watches as the sky bends down to drink her trembling face, And sees the girl she might become step softly in her place. (Final Chorus) The Marsh remembers versions she has never lived at all— A girl of dawn, a girl of dusk, a girl who will not fall. She is almost in becoming, she is maybe in the light, She is not yet in the choosing— but the Marsh holds her tonight.