a glimmer
not just light
but the soft unrest
of something unspoken
trembling at the edges
your eyes don’t shine
they carry
the way dusk carries
the last warmth of the sun
the way silence holds
a heartbeat
before the music begins
there’s a language there
older than words
a quiet gravity
pulling meaning
from every glance
sometimes
it feels like the stars
borrow their fire
from you
but only for a moment
before it returns
to settle in your gaze
Tag Archives: Poem
Time matters
We often live as if we have all the time in the world. We put things off — the trip, the conversation, the quiet morning to ourselves — believing there will always be a better time, a later time, a right time.
But the truth is that our time is not endless. Days blur into weeks. Moments we thought we’d hold onto forever slip quietly through our fingers. We don’t always notice how fast it’s moving… until it’s already gone.
This isn’t meant to be heavy — it’s meant to wake us up.
Because what we do with our time is our life. So don’t wait to say what you mean. Don’t keep your joy on hold. Be present. Be kind. Be awake to the beauty of ordinary moments.
We don’t regret the time we gave — we regret the time we thought we had.
Live like time matters — because it does.
Living Unapologetic
There is a quiet revolution blooming—not in the streets, but in the mirror. It whispers you are enough before the world has a chance to argue.
Body positivity is not just a movement; it is a soft rebellion. It is choosing to love the curves, the scars, and the stretch of skin that tells our stories in invisible ink. It is reminding ourselves that worth has never been defined by a number, a filter, or someone else’s gaze.
There is poetry in every body. In the way a belly rises with breath. In the sway of hips that move like rivers shaping stone. In freckles that scatter across skin like constellations. Our bodies are not here to be hidden or diminished. They are here to live, to feel, to take up space—gracefully, loudly, unapologetically.
So wear the crop top. Dance without shrinking. Smile with your whole face, flaws, and all. This body has carried you through storms and sunrises, through heartbreaks and healings. It is the archive of every laugh, every tear, every step that brought you here. To honor your body is to honor your life.
And maybe the greatest act of love we can offer ourselves is not to be perfect, but to accept—to stand in the truth that we have always been enough.
Saturday Sunrise
There’s something magical about watching the sunrise. It’s a quiet reminder that no matter what the day before held, today is full of new colors—each one unique and fleeting, waiting to be embraced. The air is crisp, the world still, and everything feels possible.
With each passing minute, the sky deepens into richer hues, a gentle promise that today holds beauty in every moment if we’re willing to see it.
So, as you step into today, embrace the colors it brings—whether they’re bold and bright or soft and subtle. It’s a reminder that each day is a gift, full of beauty and opportunity.
Much love
Jennifer ❤️
Chasing time
time is a paradox
it feels both endless and fleeting
a measure we rely on
to structure our lives
yet it slips away the moment
we try to grasp it
it’s only when we look back
that we see how little control
we truly have over it
how moments stretch into years
and years collapse into seconds
time it seems
is less about counting the ticks
and more about how we choose
to live between them
Awakening
if we knew the chapters
in our lives would end
would we mark the margins
with our fingertips
tracing the moments
we thought were endless
would we read with less haste
feeling the weight
of each word as it came
would we cherish the ordinary
those quiet scenes we often skim
knowing they would one day close
perhaps we’d savor the silence
between the sentences
the space that carries
everything unsaid
in knowing would we
stop rushing toward the next
and instead let each chapter
unfold at its own pace
would we find peace
in the endings
recognizing that each one
is a doorway
and every close is not an end
but the start of something
we may never fully understand
Piece by piece
tears are the language of the heart
silent words that speak
when nothing else can
they fall like rain
softly erasing the edges of pain
leaving behind a quiet space
where healing begins
each drop carries a story
a moment too heavy
for the soul to hold
they erase the bitterness of grief
transforming sorrow
into something quieter
something we can carry
piece by piece
and though they blur the world
for a moment
they also clear a path
where the heart can start again
learning to breathe
with a little less weight
15 years
Fifteen years. It feels surreal even typing that.
When I first hit “publish” on this blog, I had no idea where it would take me. Back then, blogging was still finding its voice, and so was I. What started as a small digital space to share thoughts and snippets of life has now grown into something much deeper: a record of my evolution, a community of like-minded souls, and a creative outlet that has weathered every season of life.
Over the years, this blog has been through many phases, much like me. I’ve written about everything from love and life to grief and loss, sharing the ups, the downs, and everything in between.
There were times when the words flowed easily and times when I wondered if I had anything left to say. But here we are, still showing up. Still writing.
To every reader who has stopped by, left a comment, shared a post, or just quietly read along, thank you. Your presence has made this space feel alive and worth returning to again and again.
So, what’s next? Honestly? I’m not sure. But I know this: as long as I have words to share, this space will be here. It may change and evolve (like all good things do), but the heart of it remains the same.
Here’s to the next chapter, and to everyone who’s been part of the story so far.
Much love,
Jennifer ❤️
Saturday thoughts
Whatever this week has been for you—messy or magical, heavy or light—there’s beauty tucked inside it somewhere. Maybe it’s in the way the morning light fell through your window. Maybe it’s in a laugh you didn’t expect. Maybe it’s in the strength you didn’t realize you had until life asked you to show it.
The hard moments and the joyful ones both weave the fabric of our days. Even when the edges feel frayed, there is still color, still texture, still meaning. Take a breath today. Let yourself see the small wonders—because they are always there, waiting to be noticed.
Here’s to finding the beauty in it all, and carrying that gentle light into the weekend. 🌸
Soundtrack (Audio)
There are songs you don’t just play — they arrive.
They slip into the quiet moments, like footsteps down an empty hallway. And before you realize what’s happening, they settle beneath your ribs, stirring something you didn’t know you’d tucked away.
Maybe it’s a voice — cracked, soaring, barely tethered to melody that pulls you straight into a memory you swore you’d buried. Suddenly, you’re standing in that room again. The light is just right. The air is thick with the scent of things left unsaid.
The lyrics don’t ask for permission.
They simply enter.
They move past the guard you put up
those practiced smiles, the careful strength you wear like armor each morning.
And then, they hum like an old friend, whispering, “remember?”
And you do.
God, you do.
One line — maybe something about a mother’s hands, or the quiet ending of a love that didn’t slam the door when it left, becomes a weight you didn’t expect to carry. It’s not quite pain. It’s something quieter. Heavier.
It’s the ache of being human.
Of having loved. Of having lost.
Of lingering too long in places where your heart once lived.
Sometimes, tears come. Not because you’re broken but because the song knows.
It knows what it’s like to feel everything all at once.
To carry hope where there should be none.
To hold on to moments even as they slip away.
And in that moment
you’re not alone.
That’s the power of lyrics.
They don’t just soundtrack your life
they speak it back to you.
Softer, maybe.
Sadder, almost certainly.
But truer than you ever imagined.
The Creative Chic 