When the Sky Burns Soft

Tonight, the sky called me to moods of fire and roses. I am in love—not with a person, but with the world itself. The trees, the earth, the endless sky. Each day offers a new layer of healing, each evening a gentler truth. For the first time, I feel I am truly learning what unconditional love means. Not the love that clings, not the love that asks, but the love that flows freely from the universe, from the divine, from something older and vaster than my understanding.

It is acceptance in its purest form, arriving moment by moment. No plan, no reason, no agenda. Simply the gift of being alive in this place, in this time. My logical mind cannot hold it, but every other part of me knows it deeply. And as the colors of evening unfold, the sky writes what I cannot say—its fire, its roses, its unspoken vow.

Fire & Roses

The sky burns soft, a blush of flame,
no face to hold, no earthly name.
Love lingers here, it overflows,
in every breath the twilight knows.

No tethered hand, no fleeting claim,
yet still it hums, a boundless flame.
Through fire and rose the silence speaks,
a peace the restless spirit seeks.

With Grace Ink,

Mai