Ode to the Quiet Flame

O soul unbound by pomp or praise, You walk the earth in humble ways— No jeweled crown, no trumpet sound, Yet peace and warmth in you are found. Where others rush with tangled aim, You breathe with calm, you speak with flame Of steady hope and open skies, A mirror of the wise and wise. You do not seek the world's grand stage, But in small acts, you turn the page Of lives unseen, and hands unmet, With kindness none will soon forget. A gentle word, a helping hand— Not for applause, nor to command— But just because your heart believes That every soul deserves reprieve. And oh, your light! So softly cast, It stretches far, though shadows last. You find the sun in storm and night, And teach the stars to reignite. Simplicity—your sacred thread, Woven through the words you've said; A cup of tea, a morning breeze, A laugh that puts the heart at ease. O bearer of the quiet good, Who plants not pride but brotherhood, May every path you dare to take Leave blossoms gently in your wake.