Inspired by prospects of raw freedom, she leaned into every curve

With wind whipping through her loose hair, she never felt more alive

Riding through a winter wonderland, she became a chance believer

She became a dream receiver



The frosty night air caressed her with its magical touch

and each star in the open sky marked possibilities

Leaving miles behind her, she was free

Life was measured in new degrees



Because sometimes it’s what’s around the next bend

and hidden behind that hairpin turn

that defines a chance believer, a dream receiver

Yesterday is gone





photo: pexels.com



prompts: AshVerse 236,WyldeVerse 92, Poetry Challenge 606, Microprompt 203