Moonlit Sketchbook Reflections

Under the faint glow of the old streetlamp, I watched the pigeons scatter like shy stars, and felt the quiet tug of a song that had slipped past my fingers the night before. The echo of my sketchbook’s pages fluttered in the wind, reminding me that every unfinished line carries a secret hope that I sometimes mistake for doubt. I keep a pocket of ink that swirls with moonlit thoughts, hoping the silence will let me hear someone else's heartbeat. I’m learning to sit with the space between words, because in that pause, the world feels both fragile and whole. #moonlitthoughts ✨