Love —not the romantic kind—,
but the kind where you reach out and touch someone’s soul
and let someone touch yours.
Rare pleasures, raw ecstasy few have dared to feel.
Deep soul work most are too scared to follow.

But here, in our very human world, it can wound.
It can wake things we’d rather keep asleep:
old pain, memories we can’t control.

Don’t forget —after the storm
the calm always finds its way back to you.
That calm brushes against your skin,
soft as a breeze,
and suddenly, you’re home again.

Even if today you wonder
why you’ve lost your center,
why your soul feels poor and heavy.
Even if you hide away,
holding on to the thoughts that hurt…

you’re still holding something.
A goal, a story.
A name written in letters, insisting to exist.

Maybe that story
is what’s still keeping you on your feet.