​I wear the velvet of the dusk And the scent of rain-washed pine, Believing every living pulse Is braided close with mine. I do not seek a gilded cage Or a path of paved-flat stone; I’d rather walk the tangled woods And call the stars my own. ​My pockets hold no heavy coins, Just feathers, glass, and sand— The quiet, silver miracles I’ve gathered from the land. I find a prayer in the rushing creek And a hymn in the swaying wheat, Feeling the hum of the ancient earth Through the soles of my naked feet. ​While others chase a ticking hand To buy what they cannot keep, I’m watching how the shadows crawl While the heavy cities sleep. I seek the warmth of a shared flame And the truth in a stranger's eyes, Knowing the only wealth that stays Is the light of the morning rise. ​For mine is a spirit untethered, Like a kite in a summer sky, Finding the truth in the heartbeat And the "hello" in a "goodbye." I am a patchwork of the road, A child of the wild and blue, With a soul that’s old as the mountain roots But remains forever new.