The healer walks a quiet path,
Where whispers heal the heart’s own wrath.
With gentle hands and tender care,
She mends the wounds too deep to bear.
Through forests dense and mountains high,
She searches for the sacred sky,
Where ancient truths and answers lie,
And tears are washed with every sigh.
The journey’s long, the road is steep,
But in her soul, she dares to keep
A love for those who’ve lost their way,
A light to guide them through the gray.
She carries no crown, no royal guise,
But wisdom shines in her soft eyes.
She binds the broken, lifts the fall,
And answers to the silent call.
Through valleys dark and storms that roar,
She finds the strength to heal once more.
For in her heart, she knows the art—
To heal the body, soothe the heart.
The healer’s journey never ends,
For every soul she meets, she mends.
A quiet grace, a gentle song—
She walks the path where all belong.
Thank-you for reading.
Much Love and Light,
Brenda Marie
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