Come with empty hands,
For full hands cannot receive grace,
The cup that believes itself complete,
Never tastes fresh rain,
Sometimes losing everything,
Is how abundance begins
Love is not the flame that burns another,
It is the fire that softens iron into kindness,
Let your heart become warm enough,
To comfort even strangers,
The brightest light,
Needs no witness
The loudest flower never blooms the longest,
It is the quiet blossom,
That teaches the wind gratitude,
Grow where no applause can reach you,
And heaven will know your fragrance
You searched the horizon for a miracle,
While wonder waited beneath your breath,
The key was never lost to the world,
It slept beneath your own heartbeat,
When you opened yourself,
Every locked door became a window
The river never asks where it belongs,
It simply remembers the sea,
So let your soul keep flowing,
Even when stones delay its song,
Every sincere journey,
Already knows its home