In the quiet hush of morning light,
Wounds begin to mend, taking flight.
Each heartbeat whispers, softly, true,
A promise of renewal, born anew.
With every breath, a gentle sigh,
Old shadows fade, as hope draws nigh.
Like petals opening to the sun,
Healing unfolds, a journey begun.
Through whispered winds and rustling leaves,
The soul finds solace, and softly weaves
Threads of courage, strength, and grace,
Embracing the scars that time can trace.
In the stillness, we learn to feel,
The power of love, the balm to heal.
Through laughter shared and tears released,
Invulnerability, we find our peace.
So let the wounds remind us well,
That even in darkness, we rise and swell.
For healing’s a dance, a sacred art,
A journey of the body, the mind, and the heart.
Thank-you for reading.
Much Love and Light,
Brenda Marie
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