Being a kid at heart means I don’t give up.
Being a kid at heart means I don’t give up.
Sprinkles through the rains of the mundane—reminding me you are the magic.
Bearing testimony of the moment hearts resonate in.
I spool around and around, creating from memory a lifeline between You and I.
The fire that made her lingers beneath her ribs— an ember never dying, a heart forever lit from within.
Each room, the lights turned off. It’s habit—a faint closeness, my father’s lesson. I never told him God left them on all night for me.
Hope is what has always survived in me—spinning dark threads into light, guiding me forward.