Forever Shine, Gentle Soul
Keira River Victoria Duggar
Dandelion sits among Heaven's common seeds,
Offering no scent to please and having few needs;
On dirt or fractured stone, it settles fast and tight,
Against all hardship, still content to bloom and fight.
Less common, the wild rose unfolds in fragrant grace;
With digging roots, it fiercely spreads and claims its space,
But armors itself with leather leaves and sharp thorns
That make a careless hand regret the rose it scorns.
Rare is the orchid, blooming colors painted bright;
Its beauty marks its claim and beguiles all in sight.
No inviting scent, and no armor shields its stem,
A quiet, shining bloom, a more delicate gem.
But rarest of all are seeds of the Gentle Soul;
Softest petals blaze, a diamond fire woven bowl.
Delighting perfume dances freely through the air,
And walkers by vow always they will return there.
A Gentle Soul alighted once on a cold stone,
Covered with different soil none had ever known.
In the spring, her gentle roots found a shallow hold,
And soon she blossomed, happy, beautiful, and bold.
But a creeping vine lying too near caught her scent
And set its path to grow and spread its dark intent;
By summer's end, heat dried and cracked the soil to bone,
And the vine creeped darkly between her roots and stone.
She tried to grow deeper roots for more strength to hold,
But the unmoving stone was too hard and too cold;
The different soil crumbled as the vine pushed through
And fell away from the stone and roots as it grew.
By fall, her blossom opened long past morning light,
And she struggled to close as day gave way to night
When the night wind would rise to blow strong and steady
And pull at her soft, young petals, still not ready.
The vine had invaded her most secret spaces,
Between the soil and stone, through all sheltered places.
And the night wind seemed warmer now than the cold earth,
And with it came scents of Gentle Souls and new birth.
She felt peace in the night wind now and opened more;
Within its soft embrace, she rose and then did soar
From the cold earth and darkly grasping creeping vine
Back to Heaven, where her soul does forever shine.
The winter snows melted for all the years that came,
Washing clean different soil and stone all the same.
But walkers by did protest and vow each hour:
Once upon that spot grew a Gentle Soul flower
That beckoned with sweetest perfume,
That dazzled with beauty and grace,
That touched with the softest caress,
That left our world all too soon.
August 24th, 2006 – October 28th, 2026
Keira River Victoria Duggar
Dandelion sits among Heaven's common seeds,
Offering no scent to please and having few needs;
On dirt or fractured stone, it settles fast and tight,
Against all hardship, still content to bloom and fight.
Less common, the wild rose unfolds in fragrant grace;
With digging roots, it fiercely spreads and claims its space,
But armors itself with leather leaves and sharp thorns
That make a careless hand regret the rose it scorns.
Rare is the orchid, blooming colors painted bright;
Its beauty marks its claim and beguiles all in sight.
No inviting scent, and no armor shields its stem,
A quiet, shining bloom, a more delicate gem.
But rarest of all are seeds of the Gentle Soul;
Softest petals blaze, a diamond fire woven bowl.
Delighting perfume dances freely through the air,
And walkers by vow always they will return there.
A Gentle Soul alighted once on a cold stone,
Covered with different soil none had ever known.
In the spring, her gentle roots found a shallow hold,
And soon she blossomed, happy, beautiful, and bold.
But a creeping vine lying too near caught her scent
And set its path to grow and spread its dark intent;
By summer's end, heat dried and cracked the soil to bone,
And the vine creeped darkly between her roots and stone.
She tried to grow deeper roots for more strength to hold,
But the unmoving stone was too hard and too cold;
The different soil crumbled as the vine pushed through
And fell away from the stone and roots as it grew.
By fall, her blossom opened long past morning light,
And she struggled to close as day gave way to night
When the night wind would rise to blow strong and steady
And pull at her soft, young petals, still not ready.
The vine had invaded her most secret spaces,
Between the soil and stone, through all sheltered places.
And the night wind seemed warmer now than the cold earth,
And with it came scents of Gentle Souls and new birth.
She felt peace in the night wind now and opened more;
Within its soft embrace, she rose and then did soar
From the cold earth and darkly grasping creeping vine
Back to Heaven, where her soul does forever shine.
The winter snows melted for all the years that came,
Washing clean different soil and stone all the same.
But walkers by did protest and vow each hour:
Once upon that spot grew a Gentle Soul flower
That beckoned with sweetest perfume,
That dazzled with beauty and grace,
That touched with the softest caress,
That left our world all too soon.
August 24th, 2006 – October 28th, 2026