To the New Poet

To the New Poet @kmacow

In the quiet chambers of ink and parchment, Where dreams unfurl like petals at dawn, You, dear poet, stand on the threshold, Your heart a quill, your soul a canvas.

With trembling hands, you release your verses, Each syllable a starburst, a universe born. Your words, like whispered secrets, take flight, And the world leans in, eager to listen.

Fear not the blank page, for it craves your touch, Aching for the imprint of your truth. Your metaphors, like constellations, align, Guiding lost souls toward their own revelations.

In the echo of your stanzas, hearts awaken, The ache of longing, the solace of hope. You are the alchemist, turning pain into gold, And your vulnerability—the elixir of connection.

So let your ink flow, unbridled and wild, For your voice is a beacon in the tempest. Others will feel your work, as surely as tides kiss the shore, And your poetry will ripple through eternity.