There is a moment,
just before her voice finds the air,
when the world holds its breath.
Not out of fear,
but reverence
because when she speaks,
the sky listens.
She speaks not with noise,
but with presence.
Like fingertips brushing
across the pages of someone’s soul
careful not to tear,
only to touch.
And when she laughs
oh, that sound…
It’s not just joy.
It’s sunlight through stained glass,
colors no one saw
until she arrived.
She leans in,
not to take,
but to offer:
Warmth.
Wonder.
That exquisite hush that says,
“I see you. Come closer. You’re safe here.”
And if you are lucky — truly lucky
she’ll speak your name
like it was written in the stars
just for her mouth.