The Richest Choice

There comes a time when silence feels like song,

When home is found within the soul at last.

The need to prove, to chase, to right each wrong,

Grows faint beside the wisdom of the past.

I walk with books, with birds, with morning’s light,

The wind, the rain, the changing of the skies.

No crowded room can give a deeper sight

Than peace reflected in my own still eyes.

The heart remembers; that is what hearts do. Yet grace allows what burdens fade away.

Not every wound deserves a life renewed;

Not every yesterday must shape today.

The richest soul is not the one who owns..

But one who finds a home within her own.