“When I Become”
by Adena M’lynn When I become the sunrise, I’ll paint your windows gold so even the darkest night can’t convince you it’s forever. When I become laughter, I’ll hide in your pockets and tumble out at the exact moment you think you’ve forgotten joy. When I become a tree, I’ll grow wild branches that bend just enough to let you climb higher than you ever thought you could. When I become rain, I’ll wash the dust from your shoulders, turn your sidewalks into rivers, and teach you to dance without music. When I become tomorrow, I’ll arrive with open hands, a calendar not yet written on, a promise that anything— everything— is still possible. And when I become hope, I won’t knock. I’ll move in, rearrange the furniture, hang your walls with light, and remind you— you were always meant for more than survival.