Our Journeys

We leave every road carrying something.

a pocket full of souvenirs,
a handful of scars,
and the dust of places we’ll never see the same.

Some are gentle enough to forget.
Yet most are marked by unseen turns that invite regret.

Some turns ask us to let go
of dreams,
of certainty,
and sometimes ourselves.

Yet beyond those turns,
through the fog of our pain,
unannounced,
light begins to warm the horizon.

As our road comes back into view,
our steps are steadier than before.

stronger,
reluctantly wiser.