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I. The Hollowing

There is a quiet

that arrives without knocking,

a room inside the chest

where no footsteps echo.

It is the kind of silence

that makes the heart

hear its own weight.

Loneliness sits beside you,

not cruel,

just present 

a shadow that doesn’t know

how to soften itself.

---

II. The Surviving

You learn to breathe

in smaller circles,

to warm your hands

on the smallest ember.

You learn that surviving

is not a grand gesture 

it is the choosing

to stay with yourself

for one more moment.

A cup of tea.

A window cracked open.

A single truth whispered:

“I am still here.”

And somehow,

that is enough

to keep the ember alive.

---

III. The Flourishing

Then one morning,

you notice the light

arrives differently.

Not louder,

not brighter 

just willing.

You feel roots

you didn’t know you planted

begin to steady you.

You feel the air

make room for your voice.

You feel the world

lean in a little

as if to say,

“You were never meant

to disappear.”

And slowly,

you grow toward the sun 

not to prove anything,

not to be seen,

but because flourishing

is simply what happens

when loneliness

finally loosens its grip

and your own self

steps forward

to meet you.

In the quiet park,

where the swings creak slow,

a little boy plays

with nowhere to go.

He builds a fort

from sticks and sand,

pretending someone

might lend a hand.

He watches the sky

as the daylight bends,

and whispers,

“Star so high,

please send me a friend.”

His chest feels tight,

like a buttoned coat,

and his thoughts

float lonely

like a paper boat.

---

Next day he returns,

with a hopeful grin,

and sees a girl

with a kite and a pin.

He waves a hand,

then takes a breath —

“Hi, I’m Sam,”

he says with depth.

She smiles wide,

“I’m Mia too!”

And just like that,

the world feels new.

They chase the wind,

they share their snacks,

they build a fort

with sturdy backs.

---

Now Sam knows

what friendship means:

It starts with courage

in quiet scenes.

It grows with kindness,

a gentle spark,

like two bright stars

in a twilight park.

So if you’re lonely,

don’t be shy —

wave your hand

and say hi.

You never know

what joy might start

when you open

your brave, small heart.

I packed my bag

and held it tight,

my heart a flutter

full of fright.

A brand new place,

a different sound 

I looked around

but felt unbound.

“How will I talk?”

I whispered low.

“Will anyone here

know what I know?”

---

Then one kind voice

said “Hello” to me,

and I smiled shyly,

“You speak like me!”

We laughed and played,

we shared our names,

we found new words

in gentle games.

I learned to say

“Good morning” bright,

and they learned how

“My name” sounds right.

---

We danced in customs,

old and new 

I taught them songs

my grandma knew.

They showed me food

I’d never tried,

and I showed how

we greet with pride.

---

Now every day

feels less unknown,

because I’ve found

I’m not alone.

To make a friend,

you start with grace 

a smile, a word,

a little space.

And soon you find

your heart can grow

in every language

that says hello.

In the hush of ice and sky,

where the glacier breathes a sigh,

Frosti lived alone and still,

learning how to bend his will.

He wasn’t fierce, he wasn’t loud 

just a dragon wrapped in cloud.

He watched the snow, he felt the storm,

but never knew a dragon’s form.

---

One day came a child in tears,

lost beneath the weight of fears.

Frosti stepped with quiet grace,

and offered them a resting place.

He didn’t roar, he didn’t fight 

he cooled their heart with gentle light.

And in that hush, the child found

a way to stand on solid ground.

---

Word began to softly spread:

“There’s a dragon who calms dread.”

Others came with racing minds,

with tangled thoughts and aching spines.

Frosti taught them how to breathe,

how to rest and how to grieve.

He showed them stillness isn’t weak 

it’s where the strongest voices speak.

---

He gained friends not through might,

but through lanterns lit at night.

He taught the art of slowing down,

of wearing peace like a crown.

Now children come from far and wide

to walk the glacier by his side.

They learn to pause, to feel, to mend 

and Frosti calls each one a friend.

---

So if you feel alone or lost,

go where silence meets the frost.

There you’ll find a dragon true

who teaches strength in all you do.

Not with fire, not with flight 

but with breath, and snow, and light.

Deep in the heart

of emerald green,

where vines entwine

and light is seen,

Esmeralda flew alone 

a dragon born

of leaf and stone.

She heard the forest’s

aching breath,

and vowed to guard it

unto death.

“This place is sacred,”

she declared,

“Its roots are stories

we all share.”

---

She taught the children

how herbs could heal 

the leaf, the bark,

the root, the peel.

She showed them frogs

and birds and bees,

and whispered,

“Each belongs to these.

No creature here

is just for show 

they weave the balance

we must know.”

---

She taught them ways

to gather kind 

not with greed,

but with the mind.

“Take only what

the forest gives,

and leave enough

so all life lives.”

She showed them seeds,

and how to sow,

and how to let

the wild things grow.

---

And one by one,

the children came,

with open hearts

and whispered names.

“We pledge to guard

this sacred land,

to learn, to teach,

to take a stand.”

They planted trees,

they sang with birds,

they carried forth

Esmeralda’s words.

---

The dragon watched

with tearful eyes,

as hope began

to gently rise.

“You heard me,”

she said,

“You truly see 

the forest lives

in you and me.”

And from that day,

the vow was made:

To guard the green,

to never trade

the miracle

for fleeting gain 

to walk with Esmeralda

through the rain.

The forest sang

a softer tune,

as children danced

beneath the moon.

They knew the names

of leaf and vine,

and treated each

as sacred sign.

They built with care,

they walked with grace,

they honored every

living place.

---

Esmeralda watched

from skies above,

her heart aglow

with quiet love.

“You listened deep,”

she softly said,

“You followed where

the green path led.”

She flew through mist,

through rain and light,

her wings a banner

for what’s right.

---

Now every tree

she once defended

grows with hands

that she befriended.

And every child

who learned her way

becomes a guardian

day by day.

So when the forest

calls your name,

remember how

Esmeralda came 

not with fire,

but with a vow

to teach, to heal,

to show you how.