Taking the time to finish the novel I was working on when I was a child. Writing poetry from a character's perspective is always challenging, but fun.
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In the Quiet
Today I stood before the water, where the world falls quiet, and whispered to the wind again — placing my prayer into its unseen hands, trusting it to find you.
I asked God to carry my words to wherever your soul is.
I asked Him to tell you what has only grown louder in your absence.
The water trembled softly at my feet. The wind moved through my hair like a gentle memory. And in that sacred hush, I heard you.
Soft. Familiar.
My heart ached, and tears fell — not because I doubted, but because I understood.
The wind is now our only meeting place.
The quiet, our only bridge.
Every whisper I send into the sky is a letter I will never see answered.
That beautiful, unbearable knowing cuts deeper than words can hold.
