She is not lost.
She is only folded gently inside herself,
like a letter kept safe for the right moment.
She laughs in fragments,
in between responsibilities,
in small pauses no one notices.
Her smile still knows its way home.
There is music in the way she moves,
even when she calls it routine.
There is poetry in her presence,
even when she believes she is ordinary.
She carries light without announcing it.
She softens rooms without trying.
What feels effortless to her
is rare to the world.
Somewhere within her
Not to become someone new,
is a woman who dances without reason,
who speaks without hesitation,
who lives without asking if it is allowed.
That woman has not disappeared.
She has been waiting, patiently
for recognition, not permission.
One day, gently,
she will unfold herself.
but to remember who she has always been.
—Rajeshwari 💕
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