Dear Heart,
Sunbeam
Expectations often choose paths where landslides are inevitable. Setting them aside and continuing through life is the mark of a peaceful and graceful soul.
Though my sun rises with you and sets with your name, I pay little attention to the expectations I might have of you. To me, you are a free bird: a Phoenix. You are immortal to me. It is said that if a writer encapsulates your beauty, you become immortal; and so you are to me: never truly gone, though absent, eternal in being.
One last whisper: the shades of sunrise still lead me back to you.
Until September shines,
~Zara M.
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