Poem: The Healer

With hands that hum a quiet song,
A healer’s touch where hearts belong.
She whispers through the pulse of air,
A gentle balm, a sacred prayer.

Her fingers trace the ancient flow,
Of energy that heals and grows,
In silence deep, in stillness wide,
She guides the currents deep inside.

The world outside may spin and break,
But here, no fear, no pain can stake
A claim, for in this sacred space,
All wounds dissolve in love’s embrace.

Her palms, like light, do softly glow,
Through each gesture, they come to know
The language born in soul and skin—
A flow of peace, a dance within.

No need for words, no grand display,
Just steady hands that gently sway
The life force coursing, pure and true,
To cleanse, to heal, to see you through.

In this quiet, sacred art,
A reiki healer mends the heart.
She sends her love, a steady stream,
And in her touch, you find your dream.

Thank-you for reading.

Much Love and Light,

Brenda Marie