In the quiet of the night, when shadows fall,
A whisper stirs, a soft and gentle call.
The heart, once torn, now seeks its way,
Through the storm, it finds the light of day.
Each breath a promise, a step, a start,
To mend the pieces of a broken heart.
The wounds may linger, but time will weave,
A tapestry of strength for you to believe.
The soul, though battered, holds its grace,
In the darkest times, it finds its place.
It learns to rise, to stretch, to soar,
And in its flight, it’s broken no more.
For healing comes not in the haste of time,
But in the rhythm of the heart’s own rhyme.
Like rivers carving paths through stone,
The soul reclaims the peace it’s known.
So let the tears fall, let them cleanse,
The past may linger, but it ends.
For in each sorrow, a seed is sown,
And from it grows a strength unknown.
Thank-you for reading.
Much Love and Light,
Brenda Marie
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