​Goodness is goodness,
it's always been there,
no matter the muse,
the who, what, or where.

Memories, moments,
words, hobbies, places,
you choose what moves forth
into new spaces.

When you are ready,
bring the good along,
to live, write, and sing
a hopeful new song.

She wants to stand outside, look up, and know:
the building in front of her won't vanish.
She wants to know:
the building is safe inside,
that we've searched, really ​​thoroughly,
and there are no monsters we can't fight.

She can fight.
Damn, can she fight.
But this time, she won't be alone 
in any fights that need fighting.
Nor is she alone now.
And the monsters won't be like before.

If ever the day comes 
when she no longer lives in the building,
she will want to look up at it and say: 
"Goodbye. Thanks for the memories."

But for now, 
she wants to stand outside, 
look up at the building in front of her,
and know she’s home.

Perhaps you are humming?
Still, I know you are happy
here in this vivid green forest.

Exploring on your own, 
past ancient stones and groves,
you found this quiet glade.

You know, even here,
you are not without guides,
for the stars will stay close.

In the distance you hear a dancing brook,
a calming reminder
that play is welcome.
​
Sometimes, you hum.
Sometimes, you sing.
Sometimes, you simply listen to the music around you.

​a poem about chosen family.​