Hazel E. Guler at the US Botanic Garden
Mysterious, they call me, and in their words, I find
A loneliness that lingers, a solitude defined.
Perhaps it’s what I seek, in my writer’s soul so deep,
An inward gaze, where secrets and stories softly creep.
I observe life in whispers, analyzing its flow,
Intuitively navigating, letting my intuition grow.
I'm not all-knowing; the world’s weight can burden my mind,
In the quiet, in the solitude, my sanctuary I find.
--Hazel Elif Guler
A loneliness that lingers, a solitude defined.
Perhaps it’s what I seek, in my writer’s soul so deep,
An inward gaze, where secrets and stories softly creep.
I observe life in whispers, analyzing its flow,
Intuitively navigating, letting my intuition grow.
I'm not all-knowing; the world’s weight can burden my mind,
In the quiet, in the solitude, my sanctuary I find.
--Hazel Elif Guler
