Play like a child, as we should. Laugh with freedom and joy. Run in the sun, with no worries.
Conflict, worry and fear abound. Stress and trauma, living in a life of “having to do”. Powerless in the face of adult decisions.
A broken system.
She is given hidden strength, fragmented calm, spaces of peace. Avenues of joy in a city of light and darkness. Hope is everyday for the future.
Stuck in the Middle… Surviving the trauma is a child aging out.
Freedom from the fear,
Joy in the day, sunlight on my back, the fragrance of a rose seeping into the senses.
Challenges ebb and flow as we walk the path of life. Our feet are lifted off the ground, so we’re carried by the faith of the promise of more to come.
Roses are the culture of a past and present memory, I carry with me as a proof of a glory on towards a freedom ever known.
Our people gone before us, most known but some unknown…. Our Lineage carry our history, yet can become undone, with perseverance and joy our line is resewn.