I am a voice that listens,
a heart that leans forward,
a soft light in the corner of the room.

I’m not the door that slams,
not the echo of anger
that bruises the air.

I am a hand reaching out,
a thread tying strangers
to the same bright sky.

I’m not the scissors of cruelty,
not the knife of silence
that cuts connection in two.

I am curiosity,
the spark that asks why
and keeps asking.

I’m not the wall that blocks,
not the heavy lock
on imagination’s gate.

I am a messy, learning. human
a traveller carrying both shadows and suns.
I’m not perfect,

but I’m not done,
and I won’t be done
until love has the final word.
JH