Keeper of Soft Footsteps
She stands where dusk drinks the last fire of the sun.
braids heavy with stories, robe painted in the colors of dawn.
A fawn rests in her arms—
new life against ancient heartbeat.
Around them, dragonflies trace prayers in the air.
and the forest leans in to listen.
No words spoken, yet every spirit knows:
Gentleness is a warrior’s first medicine.
In her silence, the earth remembers
that love is not loud,
it is steady—
a quiet promise carried
in every soft hoofprint of tomorrow.
Keeper of Soft Footsteps
She stands where dusk drinks the last fire of the sun.
braids heavy with stories, robe painted in the colors of dawn.
A fawn rests in her arms—
new life against ancient heartbeat.
Around them, dragonflies trace prayers in the air.
and the forest leans in to listen.
No words spoken, yet every spirit knows:
Gentleness is a warrior’s first medicine.
In her silence, the earth remembers
that love is not loud,
it is steady—
a quiet promise carried
in every soft hoofprint of tomorrow.