when we talk about beauty,
we compare it to
flowers,
oceans,
sunsets
things we call ordinary
because they are always
within reach
i deny this,
for if continued presence
held little importance,
no one would have loved
divinity this much.

I understand it’s hard—
to have a shadow
that doesn’t disappear at night.

I haunt your mind
with worry,
with desperation.

It’s a burden now—
one you’re too frail to carry.

Your feet tremble as you walk.
Your mind escapes into chaos.
But your words shine—
they pierce through
my tough skin,
and leave me bleeding.

My eyes are heavy now.
I will shut them tight.

It’s okay.

We’ll meet again.
There’s a special place
where shadows
don’t form.

Poets come.

Poets go.

Poems remain—

left behind for someone

to read,

to admire,

and

to inspire

the next generation

to pick up the pen.

For breath, for belonging

Shalom, Abba,  
not just peace,  
but the kind that wraps  
around my weary shoulders  
like morning light.

You are the quiescence
between my questions,  
the stillness 
beneath my striving.

Abba, Father,  
not just parent,  
but the pulse  
that steadies me  
when I forget my name.

You walk with me  
through shadowed rooms,  
through spirals of doubt,  
and still you whisper,  
I am here.

Shalom, Abba,  
in your breath  
I find my own.  
In your silence,  
I remember  
I am not alone.

Until my work is done,  
until my last sigh sings,  
I will walk  
in your peace.

Do not beg the winter's tongue,  
for warmth in frost was never sung.  
A cracked earth holds no verdant plea, nor blooms arise from lifeless sea.  

To stone, no pulse will ever tether,  
where silence binds like stormless weather.  

Seek not love where love wonot dwell, for hearts of stone have naught to tell.

Be a bird even if not heard
Be the light even in the night
Be alone even on your own
Be bright even if not right
Be simple even in the jungle
Be butterfly even when hard to fly