In twilight’s hush, where shadows play,
I ponder choices made each day,
The weight of effort, light as air,
A constant dance, both sweet and rare.
I rise with dawn, and dreams take flight,
With fervent heart, I chase the light,
But in this race, I pause and see,
Is all this striving truly me?
In the garden of my daily toil,
Where petals bloom from love’s rich soil,
I give my heart, my soul, my all,
To every hope, each whispered call.
Yet tangled thoughts cloud joy’s embrace,
Am I in rhythm or out of place?
Is my outpouring a fateful gift,
Or just a yearning, a selfish rift?
I question kindness, where it flows,
Can it drown in seas of silent woes?
Or does it bloom when hearts connect,
In shared compassion, perfect respect?
The clock ticks on, relentless beat,
While doubts like shadows wrap my feet.
Each tick a question, each tock a plea,
Am I enough, or too much for me?
I seek the balance, the golden mean,
In the spaces soft, in moments unseen,
Yet every gesture, every word I share,
Leaves echoes whispering—do I truly care?
The days grow long, the nights unfold,
Within the warmth, a tale retold.
I wear my heart upon my sleeve,
But in the giving, what do I receive?
In silence, still, I find my breath,
A whispered truth that conquers death.
Each smile I craft, each hand I hold,
Tells stories rich, of dreams retold.
Yet when the sun begins to set,
I wonder still, am I in debt?
To all the voices, faint yet clear,
That murmur gently, “Have no fear.”
Am I a lighthouse, strong and bright,
Or just a flicker in fading light?
Do I illuminate the path ahead,
Or cast a shadow, filling hearts with dread?
The dreams I weave, the hopes I sew,
Do they blossom, or quietly stow?
In every laugh, in each shared tear,
Is my giving grounded, sincere?
As seasons change and moments drift,
In every choice, I face the rift.
I seek to find that sacred trust,
In giving freely, I must adjust.
And as the stars adorn the night,
I breathe in whispers, feel the light.
Unraveling questions that swirl within,
I wonder if balance is where love begins.
In giving soft, or giving bold,
In quiet warmth, or stories told.
Perhaps it’s not a rigid line,
But a fluid dance, both yours and mine.
So here I stand, on fragile ground,
With every choice, my truth is found.
In heartfelt moments, both sweet and rough,
I embrace this journey—enough is enough.
