North Star


She created each

new morning

by painting her sunrise

in illuminated

colors that bled

one into another

as she greeted

her day…

She prepared herself

in front of a mirror

with no

reflection

choosing to know herself

from the inside,

seeing only the

light within

those around her

no matter how blinding

or dimly flickering

the flame…

She fed her heart well,

allowed it to break

and grow

and learned in time

the fine line between

offering strength

and enabling

weakness…

She bloomed so slowly,

glowed so softly

that only those who

passed closely by

at times

found themselves lingering,

caught in the faint scent

of hope and quiet

laughter

that surrounded her…

And at day’s end

as the sun

slipped into darkness

she would lift her face

to the night sky,

open her arms wide

and place the stars

with loving fingertips

to light the way

for those who travelled

with her.

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