Poems by Jordan A. Leturgez

If you think you're lonely now,

Just listen to the whispering trees,

Their branches reaching out in silence,

Bearing storms with graceful ease.

The moon watches from the heavens,

A solitary beacon in the night,

Shedding light on empty streets,

A reminder of souls taking flight.

If you think you're lonely now,

Feel the gentle touch of falling rain,

Each drop a tear from clouds above,

A symphony of loss and pain.

But in the loneliness, there is beauty,

A quiet space for introspection,

A chance to discover hidden treasures,

In the depths of our connection.

So if you think you're lonely now,

Embrace the solitude with grace,

For in the stillness of the heart,

We find our truest place.

In the heart of every dreamer lies a spark,

A yearning for greatness, a flame in the dark.

Through trials and tribulations, we strive,

With courage and passion, we come alive.

We reach for the stars, we chase the unknown,

With each step we take, our true strength is shown.

Through sweat and tears, through fears and doubts,

We push ourselves forward, beyond the clouds.

The path to greatness is paved with sweat and toil,

But in the end, it's worth every drop of oil.

For in the struggle, we find our true selves,

And in our striving, our greatness delves.

So never give up, never let go,

For in your heart, the fire will glow.

Strive for greatness, reach for the sky,

And let your dreams soar, like birds on high.

When shadows stretch and hopes grow thin,

And doubts like whispers claw within,

Remember this, though tempests bend--

The heart will find a way to mend.

Each tear that falls, a seed of grace,

That sprouted in a barren place;

With every struggle, every fight,

We gather strength, we summon light.

In valleys deep where darkness looms,

Life's sweetest blooms amidst the glooms;

For every night that's harsh and cold,

A dawn awaits with dreams untold.

The path is long, with twists and turns,

In every loss, a lesson burns;

Each stumble teaches, each fall inspires,

To forge a soul that climbs and never tires.

So when the weight of the world feels grim,

And worn-out shoes make hope seem dim,

Lift up your gaze to the skies ahead--

Believe, dear heart, you'll win in the end.

For victory's not just a final score,

But the courage found when we love and soar,

It's in the bonds we choose to forge,

It's in the hearts that brightly gorge.

So march forth boldly, let fears rescind,

Embrace the journey with open arms,

For every heartbeat, every hand to lend,

Whispers softly: "You will win in the end."

In the hush of dawn, where the sky meets the sea,

Whispers of wanderlust beckon to me.

Palm trees sway gently, like dancers in time,

As sunlight awakens, in rhythms sublime.

A canvas unrolled where the heart paints its dreams,

Where laughter is woven in gossamer seams.

Footprints in sand, a map of delight,

Tracing our stories from morning to night.

The taste of fresh mango, the salt on the breeze,

Each moment a treasure, each sigh a reprise.

Barefoot and free, beneath azure skies,

We gather the sunsets, where fervor resides.

Mountains that cradle the clouds in their arms,

Valleys that echo with nature's soft charms.

A symphony plays in the rustle of leaves,

In the heart of this journey, our spirit believes.

With every goodbye, there's a promise unfurled,

Of the whispers of travel that dance through the world.

For though we may wander, with time's gentle tether,

Vacation is more than a fleeting endeavor.

It's the joy of connection, the bond that we share,

In laughter and silence, in love and in care.

So let us embrace these moments divine,

In the tapestry woven, your heart next to mine.

**Lights Out**

In the hush where shadows dare to creep,
When the sun has bowed, and the world whispers sleep,
The tapestry of twilight, woven with sighs,
Unfolds a quiet magic beneath starlit skies.

Street lamps flicker, like fireflies lost,
Embers of daylight, now dimmed at their cost,
A gentle cloak drapes the slumbering town,
As dreams, like soft feathers, come fluttering down.

The echoes of laughter in corners once bright,
Fade into echoes, lost deep in the night,
Windows, like mirrors, reflect only ghost,
Of laughter and love--what we cherish the most.

In the dark, we discover our souls have a voice,
A symphony whispers, compelling our choice,
To gently embrace this embrace of the night,
To find in the shadows our longing for light.

The flicker of candles, the warmth of their glow,
Illuminate pathways where memories flow,
In each flickering flame, stories silently shout,
That even in darkness, we find what lights out.

For when all is quiet, and time sways in grace,
We gather our thoughts in this sacred space,
And within the stillness, we rise, we become,
The poets of darkness, the weavers of sun.

So let us not fear when the bright fades away,
For in every night, there's a dawning display,
A truce with the shadows, an embrace ever stout--
In the beautiful silence, we'll learn what lights out.

In the dim-lit glow of the stage, he stands, 
A figure cloaked in dreams and shifting sands, 
With eyes like windows, deep and wide, 
He wears a thousand lives, each one a guide.

His heart beats to the rhythm of applause, 
A symphony of souls, a silent cause, 
In every line, a story waits to bloom, 
In every gesture, shadows dance and loom.

He slips into the skin of kings and thieves, 
In laughter's echo or the sorrow that cleaves, 
With every role, he sheds his own disguise, 
A chameleon of truth beneath the lies.

Yet when the curtain falls and lights grow dim, 
He walks alone, the laughter turning grim, 
For in the mirror's gaze, he sees the cost-- 
The self he plays at times feels almost lost.

Behind the mask of joy or bitter strife, 
Lies a tender heart that yearns for life, 
To feel the warmth of love, to touch the ground, 
To find a voice that's real, a sound profound.

He dances on the edge of joy and pain, 
A jester's crown, a lover's sweet refrain, 
In every tear that glistens on his cheek, 
A testament to dreams he dares to seek.

So here's to the actor, bold and brave, 
Who walks through shadows, yet still dares to save, 
A piece of truth in every tale he weaves, 
For in his art, the world finds what it needs.

It is not forged in stadium lights alone--
it is hammered in the hush before dawn,
when the city is a slow exhale
and feet find rhythm on an empty road.
It learns the language of early mornings,
the grammar of returning after falling,
each bruise a punctuation in an unfinished sentence.

This heart keeps time like a weathered drum,
beat after beat carved from patience and salt.
It remembers the taste of loss--bitter, sharp--
and turns it into a kind of sugar for motion,
a fuel that burns clean and stubborn.
It knows the weight of waiting, of quiet training,
and the strange tenderness of pain.

A champion's heart is small sometimes, like a fist,
closing to protect a fragile hope,
then opening wide to hold teammates and strangers.
It is a lighthouse that refuses to wink out
when fog presses hard against the shore.
It is all the promises whispered to oneself
in moments when no one else is listening.

Triumph arrives like a thin, surprised rain:
not the purpose, but proof that the weather changed.
Fame may pass through the room like a guest,
but the heart keeps the dishes warm for others,
learns to carry victory with both hands,
and to fold sorrow into the lining of courage.
It hums the same song whether the crowd roars or sleeps.

And when the body tires and medals cool,
the heart keeps counting small, brave things:
the extra mile run in rain, the hand offered,
the return to the mat after being downed.
Champion is not the crown held high alone--
it is the steadiness to stand again,
to keep moving toward the light you can only catch
one breath, one step, one stubborn beat at a time.

So listen: in the quiet between rounds,
there is a drum that will not stop.
Its rhythm is plain and inexorable--
a promise made again and kept.
That is the heart of a champion:
not perfect, not solitary, but unspent,
pushing forward until the world is gentler for its passing.

In shadows deep where whispers crawl,
A flicker dims, yet seeks to sprawl;
I sense your heart's veiled, fearful breath,
As doubt weaves tapestries of death.

With eyes that mirror voids of night,
You question stars, their radiant light;
Yet in that gaze, a flicker's found,
A spark of truth beneath the ground.

"I find your lack of faith disturbing,"
The echoes clash, like thunder stirring;
For in the silence, where shadows play,
Hope's fragile song begins to sway.

What chains your spirit? What holds you tight?
In corridors of endless night,
Release the weight, let wonder in,
For faith can rise where fears have been.

The universe, a canvas vast,
Paints vibrant dreams that hold you fast;
Embrace the doubt, but let it go--
In faith's sweet balm, let courage grow.

So take my hand, let's walk anew,
Through fields of gold and skies of blue;
For every step we dare to take,
Shall weave the dreams our hearts awake.

In the embrace of trust, we'll find,
A tapestry that weaves us blind;
From broken pieces, we'll craft our way,
Into the dawn of a brighter day.

Dream on without fear, dear soul,

Let your visions take flight and soar,

With courage as your guiding star,

Embrace the unknown, unlock the door.

In the realm of dreams, all is possible,

Where the boundaries of reality fade,

Let your heart be your compass,

And let your dreams be unafraid.

In the tapestry of the night sky,

Find the threads of your wildest dreams,

Weave them into a masterpiece,

A vision bursting at the seams.

Dream on without fear, my friend,

For in your dreams lies the key,

To unlock the mysteries of your soul,

And set your spirit free.

In the stillness of the hour, when time holds its breath,

A whisper curls in shadows, where dreams dance with death,

This one moment, fragile, like dew upon dawn,

A flicker of eternity, soon to be gone.

The world sprawls around us, in chaos and haste,

Yet here, in this heartbeat, we savor the taste,

Of silence unbroken, of secrets untold,

The warmth of connection, more precious than gold.

The sun dips low, painting skies in a blaze,

A canvas of colors, igniting our gaze,

And all the wild echoes, the laughter, the sighs,

Melt into the fabric of dusk's velvet skies.

In this moment, we linger, our souls intertwine,

Each breath a reminder, your heart beats with mine,

For what is this life, but a series of beats,

Fleeting and fragile, like the touch of our feet?

So let's hold this instant, let it cradle our fears,

Let it remind us, amidst laughter and tears,

That in all the tomorrows, in the vastness we roam,

This one moment, dear lover, is where we find home.

A treasure unspoken, a flickering flame,

Two souls in the silence, not seeking acclaim,

For in truth, in this now, and the way that it flows,

We awaken to love, in the still watch it grows.

So here, let us linger, as stars start to fade,

In this one tender heartbeat, our eternity made,

For moments are feathers, that drift on the night,

Yet this one moment, my dear, is pure light.