. When rose-gold hair loosens in the wind of dawn, the shadows that stitched the night unravel into petals of light.
—O Charis— graceful wing that repaints the dark, sower of joy like seeds,
Iridescent little wings arc across the vault of sky; nameless drops of hope begin to sprout deep in my chest.
Her footfalls are the hush before sunrise, her voice a honey-amber bell that lets first light through. Come— from the rim of the world scoop the embers of unrest and wrap them gently in petal-light.
—O Charis— lamp-wick that, in a single breath,
flute of dawn that stirs our hearts anew.
Even in a history where thousands of wings were broken your name is written tenderly; upon earth wet with tears vines of smiles still climb.
all darkness melts into a pale-pink firmament, and a newborn morning dwells within our eyes.
Therefore— O Charis— stand at the edge of this endless night; once more, with those rainbow wings, let seeds of joy and courage fall.
Each time petal-light scatters, we rise again, walking on with your grace in our hearts.