Poem: The Woman Who Dreamed Truth

The Woman Who Dreamed Truth

She walked in the quiet spaces of night,
Where stars whispered secrets in silver light.
Her eyes, deep wells of untold lore,
Saw beyond the veil, to the heart’s core.

In dreams, she ventured where few dared tread,
Into realms where silence spoke, where the past bled.
Truth clothed itself in forms unseen,
And she, the dreamer, knew what it meant to be keen.

She dreamed of cities that crumbled to dust,
Of promises shattered, and love turned to rust.
Yet through every fracture, through every fall,
She held the truth that could heal it all.

She saw the heartbeats of every storm,
The quiet ache that makes souls transform.
Her dreams were not fleeting, nor filled with deceit,
But a tapestry woven with sorrow and sweet.

Her hands, though small, carried the weight
Of every untold story, of every fate.
She spoke in riddles, in ancient tongue,
Of battles fought, and songs unsung.

The woman who dreamed, knew more than the earth,
Her truth was not taught, it arose from her birth.
For in her sleep, she could see through the lies,
A beacon of wisdom, under dark skies.

And when dawn came, with its golden grace,
She woke, untouched, with a quiet embrace.
The world turned, unaware of her view,
For the woman who dreamed, saw what was true.

Thank-you for reading.

Much Love and Light,

Brenda Marie Fluharty