FRAGMENTS
I am not one, but many.
A mirror,
dropped long ago,
its pieces scattered across the years.
I spend my days picking up the shards,
turning them in my hands,
trying to see a whole face in the chaos.
No single piece holds the truth,
and all together,
they make not a map but a maze.
Yet there is strange beauty here —
in the glint of broken edges,
in the way light fractures and dances across the floor.
Perhaps we are not meant to mend the mirror,
but to live among its scattered reflections.
Learning to love the way they catch the sun,
gathering them like wildflowers
and make of them a garden —
imperfect, shifting, alive.
DANCE OF LIFE
Life, in its essence, is a dance — a rhythm that sways between moments of joy and sorrow, creation and destruction, harmony and dissonance.
The dance of life is not one of perfection, but of presence.
It invites us to embrace both the beauty of movement and the inevitability of stumbles, to find meaning not in a singular destination, but in the steps we take along the way.
To dance is to be fully in the moment, to surrender to the music without being consumed by thoughts of what comes next.
In this presence, we find not just movement, but meaning — the realization that the purpose of the dance is not some distant goal, but the dance itself.
Ultimately, it is a celebration of being, an affirmation of our capacity to move, feel, create, and connect.
