Poem: Home of the Soul

In the room of the soul, where silence is deep,
Whispers of memories stir as they sleep.
A flicker of light on the walls, soft and wide,
Where echoes of laughter and sorrow collide.

The air holds the weight of forgotten dreams,
A tapestry woven from fragments and seams.
Each breath that I take is a verse yet unsung,
A melody waiting to leave my tongue.

In the room of the soul, shadows take form,
Dancing with warmth, or the chill of a storm.
A window is cracked, letting moonbeams in,
Reflecting the world where the heart has been.

But here, there’s no time, just the pulse of the now,
No need for the answers or why, or the how.
The room holds my secrets, my love, and my fears,
A sanctuary built from both joy and tears.

In the room of the soul, I am both bound and free,
A space where the self is allowed just to be.
For within these four walls, nothing’s too small,
The room of the soul embraces it all.

Thank-you for reading.

Much Love and Light,

Brenda Marie