We have needs.
Temporary light
Lifts the dust of longing.
In the stillness of silence,
Pulled by the wind,
A forgotten moment—
Fragile, yet infinite.
Be still.
Truth takes root,
Seeds of quiet
Under the cold ground.
The fire of understanding
Sleeps deeply,
Awakens to bloom.
The world, a half-written sonnet,
Our imperfections—
Footprints on the star track,
Whispers in the endless night.
We linger, unknown,
On the thin line
Between doubt and hope.
Beneath the pool of uncertainty—
Will there be a place to catch us?
Or the pull of gravity's sorrow?
But in the fracture of weakness,
Beauty becomes life.
Lie down. Arise.
Transformed by our brokenness.
It is done with devotion.
It is there.
Behind the shadows of time,
The mirror glimmers.
It is not ours yet—
Yet therein lies the beauty.
Full and bright,
A reflection of all we endure.
A call
From a distant shore—
I come.
A silent song,
I move toward the light.
Not a fragment,
But a radiant mosaic,
A symphony without end.
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