Echoes in the Quiet

 In the silence, shadows speak,

Whispers of dreams, soft and meek.

Time, a river—swift, unkind—

Washes away what we cannot find.

We walk through life, with heavy feet,

Searching for truths we cannot meet.

The stars above, the ground below,

Both silent witnesses to the flow.

What is this heart that beats alone,

In a world where souls are unknown?

It cries, it loves, it yearns to be,

Yet all it knows is what it sees.

In every step, in every breath,

The echoes chase the ghosts of death.

We ask the stars, we ask the sea—

What’s left of us when we are free?

SHE RISES ANYWAY

 

She is not the loudest in the room,

but her presence shifts the air. 

Not because she demands it - 

but because she's become it. 

They never saw the nights she doubted, 

the mornings she rose with shaking hands, 

the days she showed up with tired eyes

and a fire that refused to go out.

They'll say she's lucky.

They'll say she made it.

But she'll know- 

it was never luck.

it was never magic.

It was every no she turned into maybe,

every maybe she turned into why not me?

She made something holy

out of hardship.

She wove purpose

into her pain. 

She didn't wait to be chosen-

she built her own name.

And when the world pushed back,

she smiled,

not because it was easy-

but because she knew:

She was built for the climb.

She rises anyway

I AM STILL BECOMING

 

I used to think I had to arrive - 

to be perfect, polished, 

a final draft of someone

I was still learning to love. 

But growth is quieter than I imagined.

It lives in mornings I choose to rise, 

even when my soul begs for softness.

It lives in the silence I no longer fill

with apologies.

I am made of pauses

and persistence,

grief stitched into grit, 

tenderness taught through trial.

I carry the echo of ancestors

who crossed oceans

so I could carry their names

in rooms they never dreamed of. 

And no, I don't always feel strong - 

but I show up anyway.

Because becoming 

isn't about knowing the way - 

it's about walking it

with open hands

and an open heart. 

I am still becoming

And that is enough.  

First Born Fire

I was born in the space 
between sacrifice and hope, 
where my mother's hands folded dreams 
into rice and resilience. 
Where my father's silence
taught me the weight of unspoken love.
I carry more than my name-
I carry beginnings,
unfinished prayers,
the ache of being 
the example and the bridge.
I've stood in rooms
where my voice shook
but did not break,
where my eyes learned 
to read people's pain
like second language.
I am not soft, 
but I am not hardened.
I am tempered-
like steel kissed by fire 
and taught to shine.
I build futures in silence-
between shifts, between studies,
between the guilt of rest
and the glory of purpose (from God). 
Some call it ambition.
But this is legacy.
This is healing backwards
and dreaming forward.
And when they ask
how I keep going,
I'll smile and say:
"I was born burning"

Unapologetic Climb

I am not here to be humble 

for your comfort. 

I am here to rise. 

Loud. 

Clear. 

Unapologetic. 

I come with vision in my veins, 

with plans bigger than my fears,

and a fire that doesn't flicker - 

it consumes. 

I've walked through doors

meant to stay closed. 

Spoken in rooms 

where my name was never mentioned - 

until I made it unforgettable. 

No, I won't dim. 

No, I won't soften the sharpness 

that got me this far. 

I didn't survive storms 

just to tip-toe through sunlight. 

I build in silence. 

I lead with purpose. 

And when I win - 

I bring others with me. 

Call it too much. 

Call it ambition. 

Call it everything you were too afraid to claim. 

I call it mine. 

And I'm just getting started.

Quiet Roots

I don't need the spotlight 

to know I shine. 

I've grown in shadows 

and bloomed in silence. 

My worth doesn't rise 

with applause 

or dim with doubt. 

It was planted deep, 

watered by faith, 

and rooted in grace. 

I don't need to prove 

what I already carry - 

kindness in my hands, 

courage in my quiet, 

and strength that doesn't need to shout. 

Some rise loud. 

Some rise fast. 

But I rise steady - 

unshaken, unseen by many, 

but known by the right ones. 

And if I never make it to the stage, 

know this; 

I made a difference in the small, 

loved deeply in the quiet, 

and stayed soft in a world 

that begged me to harden. 

And to me- 

that is enough.