
Healing the Heart
Beneath the weight of whispered pain,
A heart, though broken, starts again.
With every tear, a seed is sown,
A garden grows from what’s been thrown.
Through tender nights and quiet days,
The soul begins to find its ways.
The cracks, once wide, now gently close,
And from the dust, new strength arose.
In silence, wounds begin to speak,
A quiet grace, both soft and meek.
For healing comes not in a rush,
But in the stillness, in the hush.
A whispered prayer, a moment’s pause,
A gentle touch, without a cause.
And as the stars begin to rise,
A heart learns once again to fly.
So fear not the pain, the ache, the scar,
For in the dark, you’ll find a star.
Healing’s not just time or space,
It’s love’s embrace, a quiet grace.
Thank-you for reading.
Much Love and Light,
Brenda Marie
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Beautiful poem, Brenda!