AlAnoud Writes

In thirty days the tides can turn,

The quiet soul forgets, then learns.

A single moon, a fleeting span,

Can redraw every careful plan.

One foot danced where roots ran deep,

Where promises were mine to keep.

One reached toward an unseen shore,

Knocking softly on fate’s new door.

How curious, this heart of mine;

Half full of doubt, half full of sign.

For fear and wonder often meet

As strangers sharing just one seat.

Excitement wore a nervous grin;

Courage trembled just beneath the skin.

Hope arrived with shaking hands,

Yet still it asked me, “Trust My plans.”

The old sang softly, “Stay awhile.

Remember every tear and smile.”

Its halls were lined with names and grace,

A thousand echoes I’d embrace.

The new called out with wind and wings:

“Come see the song tomorrow sings.

Leave room for stars you’ve yet to name;

The sky has never stayed the same.”

And there they met.. the old, the new; 

Like morning dressed in evening’s hue.

They bowed instead of choosing war;

Each knew what it was fashioned for.

The past became a faithful tree,

Its roots still deep inside of me.

The future, like a river bright,

Kept dancing toward a kinder light.

Where branches kissed the flowing stream,

I stood between a truth and dream.

Not lost, not found; just held above

By unseen hands that whispered love.

For Heaven has its hidden art:

It moves the road before the heart.

What feels like endings, sharp and wild,

May simply be God saying, “Child…

The door you mourn was never barred;

I’ve only moved your journey’s start.

The gifts you’ve cherished, leave with grace;

I’ve kept their footprints, not their place.”

So now I bless the days gone by,

The tears that taught my soul to fly.

I bless the roads that shaped my feet,

Each farewell bittersweet and sweet.

And with an open, grateful gaze,

I walk into unfolding days.

Not fearing what I cannot see,

For what is meant will welcome me.

The old and new no longer fight;

They’ve each become a different light.

One warms the path I’ve wandered through,

One shines upon the path made new.

And somewhere, where those lights divide,

The Lord Himself walks at my side.

So if tomorrow calls my name,

I’ll answer softly, just the same:

With thankful hands,

a hopeful heart,

for every ending

is sacred art.

And every soul,

when faith is true,

finds that goodbye

is grace

making room

for something beautifully new.