She grew on pavements
beneath the canvas of night,
she grew untended—
no soil, no soul.
She couldn't see herself changing
as seasons turned around her;
she knew not her potential
of what she could become.
But in her heart she blossomed hope,
watered her faith when none paid heed,
pushing through cracks in concrete,
drinking rain from guttered streets.
As spring finally found her
and her moment came,
she bloomed and grew
for all to see.
She bloomed and grew
for breezes to carry her forward,
her seeds of hope
scattered on the wind.-
Hoping th... read more
"Blessed," they said,
"this unfading memory, a gift—
the eidetic recollection
that feeds your fortune."
But this unfailing ability to recall
carries its own vices.
For I must carry every pain
exactly as when it was inflicted,
each wound preserved
in perfect, merciless detail.
Your last words before the door closed,
the precise angle of your turning away—
every loss feels recent,
raw as the moment it first bled.
And every moment I long to release,
to finally let go,
only grows stronger in my grasp,
fed by my own desperate attempts to forget.
What they called blessing
I know as burden:
this gift that never fades
is the wound that never heals.-
On the quiet hill
above the world,
I find the quiet
that crowds cannot give.
Here, beneath the dome of
endless sky,
Solitude whispers
what noise drowns out.
The grass holds secrets,
the silence sings,
Each blade a thought
I'm free to think.
No footprints but mine
mark this sacred ground—
In stillness, I am finally found.-
Sometimes I wonder
if they were ever truly closed,
or simply waiting—
patient as ancient oaks—
for me to grow tall enough
to reach the handle,
wise enough to turn it
at just the right moment?
#captioned #-
The ceiling tonight appeals to me
As though glad that I finally see—
I see the cracks that have taken form
Like wrinkles when youth fades away
I see the cobwebs in corners too,
Patterns intricately woven, layer by layer
There's stillness in these walls above,
The kind that fills hearts devoid of love
I see the grime that coats the blades
Of the fan that cooled and came to my aid
I wonder how it came to this—
It's not as though I've been away from peace
Each night I lay beneath these makeshift stars
Yet only now I see I've neglected them all
Right before my eyes, each detail missed
Like the relations I took for granted, I confess
The space above holds patient vigil still
While I learned to look but not to see
Now in this quiet, I finally will
Acknowledge what was always watching me.-
I woke to silence
that somehow speaks
Sunshine peeking through
the half-opened curtains
Enough to warm my face
but not blind my sight
A sticky note -
wishing the best of mornings
A cup of caffeine
on the warmer
And a plate of sunnyside up
to lift me up.
A gentle smile unbidden
graces my face
Softens the creases
from the nightmare before
The ritual of your care
washing away the shadows
I whisper gratitude
to the heavens above
For blessing my life with
the miracle of you..-