In the valley where silence speaks,
She stands in colors the earth still seeks,
A flame-red sweater against the gray,
Holding a moment, holding the day.
A hat is lifted, gentle, slow,
Placed where the thorn-trees learn to grow,
Among old bones and weathered wood,
A shrine to time, misunderstood.
The canyon watches, steep and still,
As memory bends to present will,
Her hand extends, both soft and strong,
A gesture brief, yet deep and long.
For in that pause, the land recalls,
The echo of lives, the rise and falls,
And she, in quiet, finds her part
Placing a hat, yet leaving her heart.
Near a riverbank, gazing thoughtfully across the water.
Dressed in a bright red long-sleeve top tucked into a beige skirt with a wide belt,
paired with tan shoes. elegant yet grounded presence
Turning 50 isn’t about getting older,
it’s about becoming bolder, wiser, and more unapologetically yourself.
Half a century of lessons, love, and laughter, may the next chapter shine even brighter.
