We all carry some damages inside,
Sometimes our spirit paralysed,
Sometimes our soul crushed
Sometimes our wings clipped
But it is not the damages that make us.
It is how like dust we rise,
How we find new wings,
How we strengthen the spirit
the way we deepen our soul.
That takes us through
the often tumultous
mostly wonderful
journey called

Like the fallen russet leaves of autumn,
Her music stopped midway.
Like rain washing away sunshine,
Her dance left her footsteps.
Like waves crashing the sea bed,
Her song died a sudden death.
But she continued the hum the tune
During moments of loneliness.
Because to love and to be loved
Was better than to lose and have lost.