Quiet Corners

In the quiet corners of her soul, Where dreams and wanderlust entwine, A woman stands, her spirit whole, Yearning for horizons undefined.

She steps beyond the known terrain, Her footsteps echoing ancient tales, Across sun-kissed deserts, monsoon rain, Through bustling markets and hidden trails.

The map unfolds, a parchment of wonder, Each city a chapter, each mountain a verse, Her heart a compass, beating like thunder, Guiding her toward the universe.

In Marrakech, she tastes saffron and mint, In Kyoto, cherry blossoms paint the air, She dances with fireflies in the Indian night, And whispers secrets to the Eiffel Tower’s spire.

Through cobbled streets and sunflower fields, She weaves her tapestry of memories, Collecting fragments of cultures revealed, Becoming more than the sum of her histories.

Her mind, once bound by borders and walls, Now stretches wide as the open sky, She learns resilience from ancient banyan trees, And courage from the falcon’s soaring cry.

In the alleys of Istanbul, she finds kinship, In the fjords of Norway, solace and grace, Her eyes drink colors—vermilion, azure, gold, And her heart learns to embrace every space.

For travel is alchemy—a potion of change, Melting fears, forging connections anew, She sheds old skins, lets her spirit range, Becoming a constellation, bold and true.

So let her wander, let her seek the stars, For in the journey, she discovers her might, Travel opens doors, breaks iron bars, And sets her soul free in the boundless night.