Henrietta Ezegbe

Roots in shifting soil,
A quiet strength in the change —
Flourish in the now.
...

Keeper of endings and beginnings,
you move softly through golden light
whispering surrender, renewal
and faith in what the eyes cannot see.
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Salutation Is Not Love
Nostalgia is a storyteller,
and she lies beautifully,
softening the edges of moments
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A meet in the blur of ordinary days
a spark caught between passing gestures
words exchanged like fleeting constellations that promised warmth but lived in shadows
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Quiet door closes—
my heartbeat walks out in light,
new peace blooms within.
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Some meetings are not arrivals.
They are crossings.

You walk beside someone
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Longest night softens,
from solstice roots,
the sun remembers how to rise again.
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Cracks, once thought of as failures,
small ruins in the shape of a life,
carried in shame, hidden from sight,
unaware that dawn was waiting.
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Placed high,
on a pedestal carved from admiration,
words like gilded offerings,
eyes that saw only brilliance.
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First, the ecstatic joy of meeting
Fire sparks go off, love is in the air!
In tow follows the sad extinguish
O modern dating, just like clockwork.
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Once upon an enigma
With pearls for teeth, they seem to live to smile
Ever beaming from inside out
With gold for a heart, their aura serenades
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Pretty sure this happened.
Or maybe not?
Cold night on call
Walking the site pavements alone in the dead of the night
...