by Samantha Syrnich TLC
© 2025 Samantha Syrnich TLC. All Rights Reserved.
It’s not the loud kind—
not the one that shouts from mountaintops
or paints its smile in gold.
It’s the kind that lingers softly
in the pauses between heartbeats,
a whisper that says,
“Not yet—there’s still more to see.”
It’s the warmth that sneaks in
through cracks of broken things,
the hush before dawn
when the world inhales.
The quiet kind of hope
doesn’t demand to be seen.
It simply refuses
to leave.
The Phoenix Quill: Words Born of Fire, Inked in Truth 