"Whispers to the Sky"

She lifts the flowers to the sky, so wide,

As if her heart with them would glide.

A scarf of peace, a robe of grace,

No sorrow dwells upon her face.

The clouds drift slow in hues of gold,

Like secrets heaven longs to hold.

And every bloom in her embrace,

Speaks silent songs of love and faith.

The birds above, in graceful flight,

Are witnesses to soul’s delight.

She’s not alone beneath this dome—

The sky has always been her home.

She offers not just petals fair,

But dreams, and prayers thin as air.

A crimson heart between her hands,

Glows softly where the stillness stands.

O wind, O dusk, O breathless light,

Carry her wishes into night.

And let the heavens bloom anew,

With every hope she ever knew.