Photo by Davide Valerio on Unsplash
Old self falls away,
Like leaves from a withered tree.
He speaks my new name.
The shape of my truest soul,
Blooming in the morning light.
About the Creator
Archery Owl
Anchored by my twins and the beautiful chaos we share. You can sometimes find me chasing a new horizon with a backpack or just lost in a book beneath a wide-reaching oak.
Telegram: @archeryowl
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