Free verse Poem
I wish to be as delicate with people as I am with art
to look beyond the surface,
admiring not only their beauty,
but the cracks that tell their story,
the flaws that make them whole.
I want to see them fully, the way light dances on the imperfections of a painting,
the way shadows give meaning
to every brushstroke.
To touch a part of their souls
with a gentle, guiding hand – not to fix, but to remind them that even their scars are part of the
masterpiece they are.
I want them to feel it— to know that their edges, their faded colors, their unfinished lines are worthy of love.
Because there’s a quiet truth
in every person I meet: beneath the doubt, beneath the pain, is a brilliance
just waiting to be seen.
If only they could stand still long enough to believe it for themselves.
So I will be patient, soft and steady,
like a curator of hearts, helping them uncover the beauty they’ve always carried,
helping them see what I see so clearly:
A masterpiece,
not because they are perfect,
but because they are real.
The Altar 