We come together like hands cupped around a flame —
not to keep it, but to learn its shape.
Then go.
Each of us a seed of what was spoken here,
carrying the warmth of it into colder ground,
into cities that do not yet know this warmth,
into rooms that have not yet felt this room.
Diaspora — from the Greek: a sowing.
Not a scattering. A planting.
What looks like leaving
is the work beginning.
What looks like ending
is the field.