Latest Blog Posts

I was raised to believe:Giving is grace,A sign of strength,A virtue in a hardened place. They said, Give, and you rise above.But did we ever ask—above what?To give can place you high,Crowned with pride,Feeling...

Wasn’t it meant to be warm and bright,Summer’s promise after winter’s bite?Yet clouds now gather, winds take flight—Cold gusts dance in morning light. Rain lashes down like truth unsaid,Whispers,...

The morning was gold, a whisper of grace,Promising change after night’s harsh embrace.A storm had raged through the hours before,Breaking, bending—demanding more. Today, the sun glowed with quiet might,A...