Feather and Flame

Soft dawn on my window, breathing in the light.

Tiny heart, steady rhythm after every night.

Pocket-sized promises Paper planes in the breeze, I learned to fold my wishes,

let them carry me.

When the clouds gather doubt, I fold a little more,

count the stitches of courage that I save for the shore.

Quiet thunder beneath me, a hush that calls my name,

a gentle sort of wild,