I
SUDDENLY, a reed whispers between tall trees—
Neither towering to be seen,
Nor bowed enough to be dismissed.
Skin of black tupelo , cracked
By the whims of winter’s frost;
Once supple, now sanded by stares,
Whispers lodged in polite silence.
I found solace in the shadows,
The solitude of half-lit rooms
Where the self folds inwards,
Cocooned in the chrysalis of thought.
Unspoken rage distills itself
Into the quiet strength of silence.
II
BENEATH THE POPLARS,
Roots grasp for distant suns—
A web of selves intertwining,
Gasping for breath among echoes.
I found my reflection
In pages inked with alien lives,
Each line an altar of despair,
Each verse a ladder to grace.
From the pulp of isolation,
I raised a cathedral of resilience:
Voice and soul,
Like twin pilgrims in the wilderness.
III
I SOUGHT companionship as pilgrims seek shrines,
Wandering through orchards of faces,
Finding none to match my hunger.
Until solitude whispered—
“Befriend thyself, and others shall follow.”
So I stitched my shadow’s jagged edges,
Draped myself in authentic form,
Stepped into the light of others’ gaze.
The world met me where I stood,
Gifts exchanged fortifying a life.
IV
MY LOVE, a steadfast river,
Currents carrying us through tempests and calm.
I marvel at its constancy—
One truth amid shifting sands.
Yet I mourn for those adrift,
Charting oceans without maps,
Desires tossed against cruel winds.
V
IN THE LABYRINTH of mind,
I wove threads of spirit and flesh.
Ritual offered me hymns,
But silence taught me being—
The space where all songs are born.
I lament the world’s hunger
For data and proof,
Its blind eye to the soul’s mysteries.
For who am I but the lone witness
To this temple of paradox?
I am here, breathing the unknown.
VI
THE SOCIAL codes teach me hope,
Fragile faith that fractures mend.
Naïve, perhaps—
Yet I wrestle with ideas
Until they yield,
Until dreams of coexistence
Become mortar that endures.
VII
FAMILY: the cornerstone,
Hearth where storms find rest.
Mother, the fortress;
Father, the equilibrium.
Alone yet not lonely,
Learning that love’s abundance
Needs not multiplicity.
VIII
IN THE GARDEN of learning,
Seeds of dreams pierced the soil.
Each friend a branch,
Each mentor the sun.
Here I have grown,
Learned to bend without breaking.
IX
IN THE MIRROR of youth,
Lines of tomorrow etch themselves.
Responsibility calls—
Distant drums leading onward.
I march equipped with lessons of solitude,
The weight of love,
The fire of an unbroken soul.
For in the limits of becoming,
I am whole.
