The First Page

I opened a new chapter
with hands finally clear
of yesterday’s noise,
holding a chipped cup of courage
still warm enough to trust.
The old drama had passed through me,
not erased, just felt—
like weather that teaches
without staying.
I counted my strength in quiet ways:
not years, but moments—
fifty small mercies
that survived the dark.
A soft message arrived without sound,
not spoken, only known,
its edges muted
yet unmistakably precious.
Somewhere inside,
a sparkler flared—
brief, brave, enough.
I watched the flame
until the ache softened,
then gently wiped my hands clean
and turned the page.

💫Maggie

The Afterlove Voice 💫