Not a kid, not fully grown,
Finding truths I call my own.
Falling, rising, still I try—
With silent fire in my eye.




A glimpse into the quiet strength of growing up- not lost, just becoming

First
I count
All the stars
Shining above.
But after you came,
And I watched you go,
Now I sit— wise,
Pensive, and
Count the
Dark.

Its always
The simplest
Of things
That can't
Be done
Even just
A quick
I'm sorry

In the valley where sweet roses grow
Amd two little doves danced
In the soft evening glow and
With a glance sparks took flight
Kissing in the silence of night
True love blossomed forever to show.

Even the moon has to go through phases -
sometimes barely there,
sometimes shining full.
But no matter what,
it always comes back whole.