We are just little grounded stars
On a spinning globe in an expansive galaxy
And our hours here are limited, just a handful of heartbeats
To make this life matter.
What if we run out of time, dear soul,
To breathe in the peaceful, summer evenings when everything is still?
What if we have spent so long believing we were undeserving,
That we’ve forgotten we are stars?
The Therapy of Words 