Wendy Rollin Author

I reach for the stars
knowing I may never hold one in my hand,
but I never stop reaching.

Because the reaching—
that is where life lives.

It is a beautiful journey,
not measured by what I grasp,
but by the courage to extend my hand
into the impossible.

There are so many stars above me,
so many possibilities waiting in the dark.
Why limit myself
when the sky was never meant to have walls?

Life is sprinkled with blessings,
each star carrying a light
meant to be seen,
meant to be shared.

And when you reach for just one,
when your fingers brush its glow,
it does not end there.

It scatters.

Stardust falls from your touch,
spreading hope into places
you never knew were watching.

Your reaching becomes someone else’s courage.
Your faith becomes someone else’s light.

Optimism spreads quietly,
like constellations forming
one point at a time.

And growth—
growth is not loud.
It is gentle.
It is sacred.

It is the gift of becoming
more than you were yesterday.

So I will keep reaching,
not because I must arrive,
but because every reach
is a blessing.

And every blessing
is worth sharing.