Sunchild of Light

She walks in, the light follows. Like sunrise through the air. She doesn't know

her power, but it dances in her hair. She laughs like

skies in April. She moves like rivers free. And when she enters silence,

the silence starts to sing. She's not trying to be perfect. She just glows

without a plan. Like the sun, she doesn't ask permission to touch the land.

She's a sunchild, born to shine, burning soft but real. A light that

never asks for space, just teaches how to feel. She's a sunchild,

made of fire, not to harm, but to ignite. And if the world forgets her,