Poem: The Mystic’s Domain

The Mystic’s Domain

Beyond the veil where soft winds call,
A mystic waits with hands to heal.
Her whispers weave through sorrow’s thrall,
Unraveling wounds time tried to seal.

Her touch is light, yet strong as stone,
A current pulsing through the air.
She mends the cracks in souls alone,
With love that bends but won’t despair.

The cards she lays, the runes she reads,
Are not to bind, but to set free.
She plants the long-forgotten seeds,
Of hope, of strength, of destiny.

She walks where others fear to tread,
Through pain, through loss, through darkened dreams.
Yet where she steps, new life is spread,
Like golden light on silent streams.

No curse remains, no wound can stay,
Where love and wisdom softly reign.
For in her hands, the night turns day—
This is the Mystic’s true domain.

Thank-you for reading.

Much Love and Light,

Brenda Marie Fluharty