PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

At last, dear heart, the hush you craved is near,

The dawn you whispered prayers into has come.

The ache, the ache, that long held back your cheer,

Shall yield to peace as soft as morning’s hum.

No more shall shadows slip beneath your door,

No more shall sleepless hours drain your soul.

The chaos that once claimed your nights before,

Now bows beneath the light that makes you whole.

The stars have stirred.

The winds have changed their song.

The sky itself has cleared its weary brow.

You walked through storms that lasted far too long,

But oh, how bright the sacred gift of Now.

No longer tangled in the nets of doubt,

No longer braced for battles yet unknown.

You rise, a quiet flame, no need to shout,

The universe has carved for you a throne.

Clarity wraps you like a second skin,

Each breath a balm, each step a sacred thread.

Fulfillment blooms, not somewhere, but within,

Now peace walks with you, and confusion fled.

So take this hour, this moment, soft and clear,

The new beginning you once dreamed draws near.

The cosmos breathes through your silken thread,

A shimmer stitched where starlight treads,

Each breath you take, a hush, a spark,

A song begun within the dark.

You walk, a lantern born of flame,

Yet hold no boast, nor cry your name;

The hush of galaxies leans in,

To hear your soul’s light stir the wind.

You are not small, though stars are grand,

You are the pulse in the sky’s own hand.

A symphony that dares to rise,

From silence, into sacred skies.

Let morning crown your brow with fire,

And let your gaze the heavens inspire,

For God in shadow, dust, and hue,

Finds voice and rhythm, here, in you.

There were words I loosed like doves in flame,

Believing then they sang my name.

They circled truths I thought were stone,

But time has taught me bone is bone.

It bends, it breaks, it mends anew,

And so, my thinking shifted too.

There were paths I carved with fervent feet,

Mistaking hunger for the heat.

I danced with shadows, dressed in pride,

I kissed ideals I now let slide.

Not out of shame, nor some disguise,

But from the way that wisdom sighs.

No, I wear no doubled face,

No costume stitched with sly disgrace.

I do not play at saint or sin,

But simply shed my older skin.

The soul, like sea, must ebb and swell,

What once was right may not still dwell.

Growth is not betrayal’s twin,

It is the echoing voice within.

That softens stone and clears the dust,

That asks, “What now deserves your trust?”

And so I rise, unchained from past,

Not fixed in marble, but made to last.

Judge me not by yesteryear,

But by the will that brought me here.

I bloom, I stumble, I redefine,

Each version still a thread of mine.

For even stars must shift their place,

And find new fire in endless space.

So let me change, and let it be,

A hymn to our humanity.

Not proof I’ve lost my truest hue,

But proof I’ve lived, and listened, too.

What if I told you, in hush not heard, but felt,

That the ache you name as longing

is the echo of a promise kept?

Not in some far-off fortune,

but in a chamber of the Now

where time folds in upon itself

like linen soft with memory.

You want it deeply, don't you?

That golden glint behind your ribs,

the ache that doesn’t bruise but burns,

not a wound, but a whisper.

It is not born of lack.

It is the future’s fragrant breath

blooming backward into your soul.

These aren’t dreams, my love,

they are breadcrumbs dropped

by a wiser You who’s already danced

through that doorway,

wearing the life you crave

like sunlight wears the morning.

Intuition isn’t guessing,

it’s remembering,

as the river remembers the sea.

Desire is not begging,

it is recognition,

a soul pointing to its own reflection

just beyond the veil.

So walk like it’s yours.

Breathe it. Speak it.

Dress your days in its colour.

Let the vision not be a someday shrine

but a mirror, a map, a marrow.

Because what you want is not ahead,

it is within,

waiting only

to be believed in.

They called you kind, a gentle soul,

Soft as petals, sweet and whole.

You bore the weight of every storm,

A refuge where the ruthless swarm.

You folded yourself in careful lines,

Shrank to fit their grand designs.

Smiled through wounds they couldn't see,

Convinced that love meant loyalty.

But kindness should not taste like chains,

Nor drown beneath another's pains.

To give is grace, but not to lose,

The voice, the light, the right to choose.

Why must your comfort come last in line?

Why must you dim so they may shine?

A heart so vast, yet bound so tight,

A sky eclipsed to spare the night.

No more. No more the whispered "yes,"

That bends your spine in self-duress.

No more apologies for thin air,

For taking space, for standing there.

To choose yourself is not unkind,

Not cruel, not selfish, just aligned.

Boundaries drawn with steady hands,

Are sacred vows, not harsh demands.

And those who love you, who truly see,

Will bless your rise, will set you free.

The rest will fall, like autumn leaves,

Carried off on silent eves.

So stand, unshaken, bold and true,

Unbowed by guilt they place on you.

For peace is not in being small,

It's daring, fully, to be your all.