Hush, little rose, the night has been long,
Petals bruised and battered, yet still, you grow strong.
The care you seek will one day arrive,
But for now, your stem stands poised, alive.

Hush, little rose, though your storm feels unending,
Allow me to offer you solace and shelter, unbending.
Your thorns don’t scare me; I’ve bled before,
For scars tell a story that resilience bore.
So let me hold you, even if just tonight,
For in your tempest, kindred spirits unite.

Hush, little rose, forsaken and astray,
By gods who turned their backs and looked away.
Together, we can carve a new way,
No longer lost, we’ve found our light,
A quaint ember burning through the endless night.

Lean on me, and I’ll never let go,
For in your pain, a part of me continues to grow.

Hush, little rose, there’s no need to stand so tall,
Release yourself from the scars that shackle all.
Remove the mask you wear, let your weary soul rest,
If only for tonight, let me bear the weight in your chest.
Crumble in my arms; I’ll keep you whole,
You can break apart knowing I’ll guard your soul.

Hush, little rose, let the darkness seep,
I’ll hold you close when the shadows creep.
For you are not your storms, nor your fears—
You are the quiet strength behind your tears.

Let love be gentle, let it unfold,
Not the fire that consumes, but the warmth that holds.
There’s no need to burn for love to be true,
Let it be a love that softly cradles you.

Hush, little rose, the night has been long,
But in our shared silence, we’ve found a song.
No longer alone, no longer astray,
Together, we’ve forged the dawn of a new day.

My mind weaves endless knots
As uncertainty looms.
Each worry a weight,
Each fear a chain,
Of Tomorrow's
What-ifs and maybes.
Here, at the edge
Of doubt's territory,
Where mind meets mystery,
Faith plants its quiet seed.

Like a dawn mist dissolving
In the morning's first light,
My worries fade beneath
Faith's gentle hand.
It is not a blind belief,
But a trust that falls
Like gentle rain
Onto parched earth,
Growing gardens
Where deserts once ruled.

I often carry mountains
In my mind,
Yet, I must learn to hold
Just a pebble of faith
Instead of Atlas's burden.
When in the borderlands
Between fear and trust,
Transformation begins;
Where heavy loads grow lighter
And doubt bows down
To possibility's acceptance.

When worry builds walls,
Faith carves windows.
When fear holds tight,
Faith liberates.
I know of its presence
In steadying calming breaths,
With shoulders unburdened,
In questions becoming answers
And my anxious thoughts
Scatter like leaves
Into a forgiving wind.

©️Lizzie Bevis