I walk the edge of restless skies,
where clouds drift heavy with untold sighs.
Each step, a question left unheard,
each breath, a prayer without a word.
I’ve chased the sun, I’ve held the rain,
I’ve knelt beneath the weight of pain
yet somewhere past the fields of fear,
I hear a whisper drawing near.
Not in the roar of mighty seas,
nor in the bending of the trees,
but in the quiet, soft, and slow,
where silent rivers gently flow.
Peace is not found in distant lands,
nor given by another’s hands.
It blooms where wounded hearts forgive,
where broken souls choose still to live.
So here I stand, so here I stay,
learning to yield, not run away.
For peace, I find, is never chased
it waits within, a gift embraced.
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