You build from silence 
not from praise,
but from the soft pulse
of something honest.

You walk through rooms
that do not see you,
and still you leave
a trace of light behind.

You create
as if love were a language
you refuse to stop speaking,
even when no one answers back.

You care 
too much, sometimes 
but it is that tenderness
that makes your world bloom.

And though the world
may count in numbers,
you count in meaning 
and that, Celine,
is your quiet miracle. 🌙