Love doesn’t come to a house; it seeks a true home,
like a migrating bird, longing to roam.
A withered flower, still trampled and gray,
retains its sweet fragrance, like memories at play.

No matter how many times your heart has cried,
like a river in storm, always renewed with pride.
If you tend to the garden of your soul with care,
time will bring someone to heal every tear.

Though sometimes you feel like a shadow in night,
like a whisper unheard, believing you’re slight,
don’t be disheartened, for the river’s never still,
it flows and transforms, embracing each thrill.

Don’t fret about tomorrow; live today with grace,
like the sun in the morning, lighting up your space.
Give your best in each moment, in all that you do,
like a tree reaching upward, steadfast and true.

Thus, love will find its way to your open heart,
like a lighthouse in fog, guiding from the start.
Every step that you take will be a chance to rise,
and in the garden of your soul, your truth will surprise.