The Silent Giver

They call me failure,

A shadow with nothing to show—

Not knowing the seeds I planted

In the gardens where they grow.

I gave what I had,

Each heartbeat, each breath,

Not for applause,

But to carry them past death.

I built their bridges

From the bones of my spine,

Lit their path forward

While I fell behind.

No trophies, no praise,

Just echoes that fade—

But their triumphs were born

From the price that I paid.

If only they saw

What I chose to release—

Not for my glory,

But to gift them peace.

Shadow

You are the shadow that follows me through every day—

with every turn I take,

and, most of all, with every fall,

you’re there.

I never asked for this,

and yet, you came.

You saw me—bent,

broken—

and chose to lend your strength.

Now,

I stand a little taller,

a little straighter,

and so much stronger—

because of you.

The wind no longer pushes me down;

it lifts me as I walk.

The crows no longer circle overhead;

they pass by,

never giving me a second glance.

And the ground—

it feels firm beneath my feet,

as if it carries me with quiet magic.

Funny, isn’t it?

To live in the company of a shadow

that feeds my every moment of light.

That’s what you are—

my shadow.

Not darkness,

but a lifeline

that keeps me standing.

Serendipitous

I caught a glimpse of you today.

A whisper in the wind made me turn and I instantly realized it was you.

The moment was lovely ~ sweetness overload. 

 Sometimes as I go through my days my mind stays totally focused.

I don’t let any thoughts enter, especially those of you.

I keep you locked up far in the back of my mind but today, today was different.

You appeared without forethought and magically brought sunshine into my heart.

Today was  purely serendipitous.

I miss you in my life.

The Secret

Beneath the comfortable lives of those who dwell in warm and cozy homes

lie the harsh realities of society. 

There is a common belief that if something is not visible, it does not exist.

It is all too easy for those who create the rules of the game called life

 to craft an illusion of utopia while suffering and poverty remain stark. 

We must remain vigilant against those who present us with fairytales on a golden platter 

and look beyond our comfort to see the reality around us.

Compassion for everyone in need should be our guide.

Reflections of Another Time

Reflections of another time echo in your eternal home.

Do you know that I'm here by your side, keeping you alive in my thoughts?

Please don't be frightened by my visit.

I'm only here to reminisce and feel your presence beside me.