a quiet call

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Come,
when the noise of the world has made you forget
the sound of your own breath.

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Come as you are—
with nothing to prove,
no story polished for approval,

​

Come,
if you remember love
before it learned to perform.

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We gather Artists, dreamers, doers

hearts slightly visionary,

to celebrate the ordinary

as something eternal and necessary.—
 

Friends soften into family,
music is their language,
movement the remembering.

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Time loosens its grip.
Focus feels voluntary.
The inner child laughs again—
unapologetic, revolutionary.

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This is not escape,
it’s returning to what’s primary.

If you feel the pull,
it’s not imaginary

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It's time to RETURN

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Welcome home.