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I end this year the way I lived it—moving.
Scarred knuckles, quiet wins, loud lessons.
I learned that silence can teach,
that roads don’t apologize for being long,
and that becoming costs more than dreaming.

Some days bent...

Safe in your arms,
your heartbeat feels like a melody—
sweet, steady, certain.

My fingers trace its rhythm
along your chest,
learning you without words

Kisses pressed on my forehead,
gentle and sure.

In a...

I love red,
not in the way most do,
with roses or sunsets,
but in the way it bleeds—
bleeds from my soul.
I wear it on my skin
like a silent scream,
a language only I understand,
when the world becomes too...

Ecstatic bird songs pound
the hollow vastness of the sky
with metallic clinkings—
beating color up into it
at a far edge,—beating it, beating it
with rising, triumphant ardor,—
stirring it into warmth,
quickening in it a spreading...
        

He walks the path, feet light, yet sure,
Balancing life on rails obscure.
The sun hums soft in golden tones,
A fleeting warmth he calls his own.

Illusions dance, they pull, they sway,
Yet he won’t let them lead...

Tonight, the rain falls like memory—
soft, heavy, personal.
It taps my window like
it knows knows my name.
It carries the echoes of laughter,
traces of heartbreak,
and the quiet moments.
It remembers...

There is a place where the sidewalk ends
and before the street begins,
and there the grass grows soft and white,
and there the sun burns crimson bright,
and there the moon-bird rests from his flight
to cool in the peppermint...

When dark shadows fall around me
When the day turns into night
I am safe within His keeping
For He draws me to His side.

Ever faithful through the fury
Through the fire and through the flood
I am trusting as He guides...

There are memories I planted
deep enough to forget,
but they sprout anyway,
breaking through the soil of silence.
Some grow thorns,
some bloom softly,
some rise like weeds
I wish I never watered.
But all of them...

There are too many kids in this tub
There are too many elbows to scrub
I just washed a behind that I'm sure wasn't mine
There are too many kids in this tub.

Laugh, and the world laughs with you;
Weep, and you weep alone;
For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth,
But has trouble enough of its own.
Sing, and the hills will answer;
Sigh, it is lost on the air;
The echoes bound...

Sun and wind and beat of sea,
Great lands stretching endlessly…
Where be bonds to bind the free?
All the world was made for me!