Those Curious Eyes

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Those curious eyes, like twin moons bright,
Gleam with wonder in soft daylight.
They trace the world with silent grace,
A thousand tales in one small face.

They leap through shadows, chase the sun,
Each glance a game, a race begun.
A whispering purr, so soft, so deep,
It lulls the storm, it sings me sleep.

Each tiny paw, each graceful stride,
Carries a joy I cannot hide.
A tumble here, a stretch, a yawn—
She is my dusk, she is my dawn.

She guards my heart with velvet paws,
Knows when I pause, feels when I pause.
No spoken word, no need to say,
Her love just melts the grief away.

And in those eyes — wild, brave, and wide,
My restless thoughts find place to hide.
A living charm, a soul so wise...
My world glows through her curious eyes.

The Symbol of My Dream

The Symbol of My Dream

  

Within this mark, my spirit rests,
A sign of strength upon my chest.
Not merely lines or shielded art,
But the echo of my beating heart.

It whispers soft—“You are not alone,”
In storm or silence, I am your own.
Through paths unknown and skies unsure,
This dream, this symbol, keeps me pure.

A lotus guards with petals wide,
A sacred space where fears subside.
In every curve, a promise flows—
That I am held when no one knows.

It tells of hope, of journeys steep,
Of vows the waking soul will keep.
A quiet fire that lights the way,
That says, “You’re safe. You’ll find your day.”

So when the world turns cold and dim,
I turn my gaze and trust in Him.
This symbol, bold, both shield and key—
It is my strength. It sets me free.