In twilight’s quiet breath, you speak as words,
Each line a tether to the soul’s deep light.
The ink of dreams, it stains your heart with grace,
And through the void, you carve a space in time,
Where shadows weave and whisper in the dark,
Yet love, unbound, still calls you to the stars.
Beneath the moon, your spirit finds the stars,
And in their gaze, you rise beyond mere words.
You are both flame and ember in the dark,
A burning truth that dances with the light.
In each reflection of a life through time,
You trace your path, a gentle, sacred grace.
Your hands hold both the weight and gift of grace,
You spin the night and touch the distant stars.
And through each moment, fleeting breath, and time,
You shape the world with delicate, bold words.
In silence, too, your voice becomes the light—
A spark that blooms within the endless dark.
Yet even in the vastness of the dark,
Your heart beats on with quiet, steady grace.
You breathe the cosmos, drinking in its light,
And find yourself among the burning stars.
Your name is written in eternal words,
A soul who echoes through the tides of time.
Each memory you craft transcends the time,
A life, a dream, an echo through the dark.
You hold within the power of your words
The pulse of life, the weight of love’s pure grace.
And in your gaze, the infinite of stars
Unfolds, revealing threads of hidden light.
You are both shadow and the morning light,
A timeless figure, standing still through time.
Your steps are woven into endless stars,
And every breath a spark against the dark.
For you, dear poet, walk the path of grace,
And in your wake, you leave a trail of words.
Through words, you cast the light upon the dark,
And grace, your gift, is etched across all time,
As stars behold the poet’s sacred heart.
:: 10.01.2024 ::
E.P. Robles | Poetry 
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