You're the steady hand on a restless heart,
quieting storms that once knew no shore.
Where I was hollow, you poured warmth,
filling spaces I thought would always echo.
In a world that bruises and rushes past,
you move gently, like light through trees
and I am reminded-
healing is something soft,
something seen only in the warmth we leave.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem