"Becoming more me"
a whisper rising from the depths,
where silence births creation’s glow,
where poetry finds breath.

"Words out of nowhere flow in me",
you paint the night with untamed thought,
a soul that lingers, sleepless, bright,
where dawn and ink are caught.

"Still upward in this journey I be",
climbing where the fog is deep,
where sorrow walks but faith remains,
where echoes softly weep.

"Love drifts, lost inside some emotion",
embers flicker, then ignite,
falling into tear-streaked eyes,
turning darkness into light.

"Bringing out more of me",
your voice is both the storm and sky,
your poetry a lantern’s glow
when heavy shadows lie.

Weeping Willow, your words move like rivers,
unfolding between stillness and storm.
Each verse a pulse, each thought a breath,
a melody where the soul is reborn.
If you find these words, may they be a mirror,
reflecting the beauty you bring to the world.