When doors close softly before your reach,
and dreams dissolve in quiet air,
do not call it failure too soon,
for sometimes heaven whispers, not there.
The waiting aches, the silence loud,
yet purpose blooms in hidden ways.
The “no” that bruised your tender hope
might guard the “yes” that truly stays.
So breathe again, unclench your hands,
what left was never meant to stay.
For grace is kind, though clothed in loss,
it leads your heart another way.
