There is a place inside you No map has ever traced, a quiet room behind the ribs where light forgets to stay. No one sees it when you smile, No one hears it when you speak. It moves beneath your laughter like a river running deep. It is yours alone to carry, not carved for other hands, a language made of silence Only your soul understands. Some mornings it is heavier, a stone you cannot name, And still you rise and wear your life as if it were the same. But pain, it does not leave you when ignored or pushed away, it waits within the folds of time, it learns you day by day. It is not your enemy, though it cuts without a sound; it is the truth you buried but still lives underground. And yes, there are nights it breaks you, when endurance feels too wide, when even breath feels borrowed And there is nowhere left to hide. Yet somehow you continue, not because you do not fall, but because within the breaking You still answer life’s call. You learn to walk beside it, not beneath it, not above...
The forest stands dark and breathing,
trees twisted like ancient thoughts,
their shadows whispering warnings
to every step that dares to enter.
Eyes glow between tangled roots,
animals move with silent command,
claws, wings, and hidden breaths
Obey laws older than fear itself.
Rare plants rise from the damp earth,
thorns guarding fragile beauty,
poison and healing sharing one stem,
Life balanced on divine precision.
Thunderstorms rumble through the canopy,
not spoken, yet deeply heard
a power unseen but undeniable,
holding every leaf in place.
In this fearful, living cathedral,
where danger and wonder entwine,
God’s power unveils itself clearly:
order within chaos,
life within shadow,
and purpose within the wild.
© 2026 Gloria Penelope
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