You deserve the light,the patient glow
that warms the places you outgrow,
a love that roots you deep and sure
and teaches fragile things to endure.
You carry magic, small and bright,
in passing laughs, in borrowed light,
in ordinary moments where
joy learns how to grow its wings in air.
Hope still hums in the hush of night,
a gentle force, a steady might,
it lifts your heart without a sound
and reminds you,you are safe, you’re found.
Good things are coming, soft but true,
they’ve always known the way to you,
the universe, in quiet art,
leans toward a generous, open heart.
So let the world lay beauty down,
turn weary dusk to dawn’s renown,
hold your soul,no need to brace or cope,
you were made for love, for magic, for hope.
do not let labor swallow light,
or polish days till they feel tight,
your soul is not a box to tick,
nor praise that fades, nor numbers quick.
you are the hush before the dawn,
the breath that knows when rush is wrong,
the warmth that lingers on your skin,
the quiet joy you hold within.
step out of clocks and measured days,
let sunlight loosen rigid ways,
rest is not loss, nor time misspent
it’s where the self is gently bent.
for hours unlived, though neatly filled,
leave deeper hungers unfulfilled,
and charts may rise, and crowds may cheer,
yet life asks only: were you here?
remember wonder, slow and true,
the pulse that once ran wild in you,
let living be the truest art
not what you do, but how you are.
I walk where silence learns my name,
where maps run out and paths turn flame.
My dreams are sworn to no one’s creed,
my fears lie buried with the seed.
The fall is mine, the blood, the bruise,
the nights that teach me how to choose.
From soil cracked by doubt and ache,
I grow the roots I dare to make.
Alone I rise, alone I bend,
with shadows only I befriend.
Each sleepless hour, each salted tear
tempers the spine that holds me here.
And when the summit meets my gaze,
no borrowed light, no borrowed praise
the sun stands still, my name aflame,
for all I own was earned through flame,
not handed luck nor hollow fame.
“In the net of Indra,
each jewel reflects all other jewels,
and in each reflection
all reflections are contained.
One is all,
all is one.
The one does not obstruct the many,
nor do the many obstruct the one.”
~ Fazang (3rd Patriarch of Huayan Buddhism)
No soul is busy, only blind
to treasures they’ve agreed to leave behind.
Those who care will carve a way
through crowded hours, through night and day.
Time is no prison, no rusted chain
it softens hands that choose to change.
If you matter, they will bend,
reach for seconds, make them spend.
So do not weigh love by idle clocks,
or promises that knock but lock.
The heart that wants you won’t delay
it shows up fully, finds a way.
It gathers moments, small and true,
and makes a home inside of you.
The eye sees only what the mind is prepared to comprehend.
— Henri Bergson
they watch, they wait, they hunger for the day
i falter, fracture, turn and stray
their eyes are hawks, their hopes are snares
set quietly in whispered prayers
yet i move on through wind and rain
with steady breath and tempered pain
each step i take, a muted drum
a promise kept: i will not come undone
their murmurs strike, then fall away
like brittle glass along my way
for silence taught my heart to stand
and patience carved me into land
i rise, i build with scarred resolve
no need to shout, no need to prove
my will is deep, my roots extend
where waiting eyes can never bend
so let them linger, let them ache
for cracks they swear i’ll someday make
i breathe the wide, unguarded sky
they watch, and watch… and i walk by.
🤣
