He treats me like I’m a lost bird—delicate, unpredictable, something to be coaxed rather than caught. He tiptoes around me, careful not to startle, dropping crumbs of kindness like breadcrumbs on a forest floor. Each gesture is a quiet hope, a silent invitation: Come closer. Trust me. But I fell from my nest too long ago. The fall wasn’t graceful. It shattered something inside me that never quite mended. I can’t be domesticated. I wasn’t built for cages or soft hands. I’m a creature of wind and ache, a fragile thing with wings too broken to fly and too stubborn … Continue reading Fragile

Since I lost myself in the canyons of your skin, I’ve wandered through the labyrinth of life, seeking fragments of my soul in the bustling streets, the hallowed halls of ancient churches, and even the worn soles of my shoes. Perhaps, I mused, I could uncover my essence behind my eyelids, within the pages of a book of sonnets, or at the bottom of a forgotten well. In the quiet moments of mundane tasks, I would whisper poetry to myself, a gentle reminder of the person I once aspired to be. Yet, with each passing day, I felt pieces of … Continue reading Seeking Lost Fragments

Forgive me. I failed to hear your voice, and in the silence feared that you had left me. I had trained my ears to hear a booming sound. I yearned for a clear bell, straining to hear the call that would surely come. The loud shout that would rise over the fog with conviction. I raged and wept and writhed in the vast silence my mind perceived. It assaulted my every sense. Why would you not make yourself known to me? I, who strained so earnestly to hear your command. In my presumptuous overreaching I deafened myself to the soft, … Continue reading The Whisper in the Silence

Era fim de tarde no sertão, quando o sol se deitava com preguiça por trás das coxilhas, tingindo o céu de um rosa que parecia ter sido soprado por Deus. Dona Mariinha, sentada na cadeira de palha, fazia cafuné no cabelo branco de seu Zé, que cochilava com a cabeça encostada em seu colo. A mão dela, sabida de anos e silêncios, ia desenhando caminhos no couro cabeludo dele como quem escreve cartas que não precisam de papel. “Cafuné é coisa de alma,” dizia ela, sem levantar a voz, como quem conversa com o tempo. “Tem que saber onde toca, … Continue reading Crônica: O Cafuné e o Fogo

On page 55 of an ordinary book lies a phrase that doesn’t shout, but echoes: “Avoiding unnecessary wars is also a victory.” There are no characters, no elaborate setting—just a bare truth, almost shy, revealing itself as if it doesn’t want attention, yet changes everything. We live in times when victory is measured by visible achievements: medals, trophies, promotions, likes. The world teaches us to fight, to compete, to win. But there’s a kind of victory that doesn’t make headlines, that earns no applause. It happens when someone chooses silence over a sharp reply. When a wounded heart decides not … Continue reading Chronicle: The Silent Victory

If they ask you to love in whispers when your heart beats like thunder, they are not your match.If they demand a symphony when your love is a gentle hum, they are not your home.Your love is not clay to be shaped by someone else’s hands.It is iron—forged in fire, resilient and true—crafted to reflect your spirit, not their expectations.Let it be loud. Let it be soft. Let it be yours. ❤️🙏 ©️ Beatriz Esmer Continue reading If They Ask …

She was born wild and curious, a spirit untamed by the confines of ordinary life. Her eyes sparkled with the light of a thousand stars, each one a testament to her boundless curiosity. A cage is no place for someone like that, someone who dances with the wind and sings with the rain. “I play with the fire of my own truth,” she told me, her voice a melody of conviction and passion. “I will burn for the things I love.” And in that moment, I saw her for what she truly was: a blazing comet, streaking across the sky, … Continue reading Born Wild

Smoke still sits on the battlefieldBut I hear music in the airOr is that the ringing in my earsMaybe I’m to shell shocked to careI’ve lost my bearings, I’m not sure whereTo go, or turn, or stop, or stare Looks like rubble around me I told myself I’d never be weak enough to fightYet here I am, sprawled out in a meadowStained with surprise and subtle sorrowNot a mark on me butBewilderment slips out of me like bloodDazed and confused as to exactly what happened Something tells me this isn’t the end Somewhere a lone sentinel standsSeeking my heart with … Continue reading Tears

May I not follow those who turn aside but let no one go astray following my footsteps. In the quiet moments of reflection, I find myself yearning for a path that is true and unwavering. The world is filled with distractions, and the rush to arrive often blinds us to the beauty that lies along the way. May the rush to arrive not distract me from the joy of seeing the simple flowers that are at the side of the road. Each petal, each bloom, a testament to the quiet wonders that life offers. I wish to walk gently, not … Continue reading Reflections on the Path

When did I become so old? The question lingers in the air, a whisper of time’s relentless march. The woman staring back at me from the mirror is a stranger, her eyes a reflection of years gone by, yet her spirit remains untouched by the passage of time. Clearly, the woman I see in the mirror is not the woman held prisoner inside this broken body. She is vibrant, her heart beating with the rhythm of dreams yet to be fulfilled. Her laughter echoes with the innocence of youth, a melody that defies the lines etched upon her face. Her … Continue reading Time