Quiet dawn returns

old shadows lose their footing

clear water, new breath

No drink in my hand—

just the pulse of desert light

and breath I can trust.

Old ghosts lose their grip

each time I choose the silence

over the sweet lie.

Desert wind stays still.

I walk past the old temptations—

my pulse chooses peace.

Clear nights feel like truth.

Stars don’t blur or bend for me;

I meet them sober.