as we metamorphose

We chased the wind through gravel lots, told stories in the sun-soft spots. Spoke Spanish in the checkout line, translated fear into “it’s fine.” Held my brother’s hand through crowded space, learned stillness in his silent grace. Watched Mom brave a world not made for her, became her voice, her messenger. School bells rang like distant drums, where I stood tall though doubt still comes. The Boardroom didn’t feel like mine— but I stayed, held steady, to redefine. And when the cap flew toward the sky, I didn’t cry—I knew just why: We leave the halls but not the fight— still shaped by love, still seeking light.