Of the weeks when the cold bites and the sparkles shimmers,
the heart falters with uncertainty and distrust.
The path ahead to the unknown, the fire seeks the coal to burn.
Desiring to be and be enough, the heart yearns to know.

Like standing in the middle of towering timbers,
shafts of light against hot skin, frightened eyes and dry throat;
she gazes into fogged horizon and wonder silently:
Right in the center of Beauty, where do I walk to get home?

The Constellations won’t lead me down the road;
Sola sets for Luna to guide me to darkness.
I fear, I hesitate; she falters with uncertainty and distrust.
And yet, forward is the only way for her to go.

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