Poem : Step Inward

Step inward—
not with the feet, but with the self
which has grown tired of surfaces.

There is a door with no hinge
that swings on the axis of silence.
It does not open for hands,
but for the stillness between thoughts.

Close your eyes—
the world you flee is made of noise,
but the world you seek is woven in quiet.

Let the breath become your only language.
Inhale the memory of stars,
exhale the burdens you mistook for identity.
You are not your name.
You are not your job,
nor the echo of others’ praise or blame.

You are not the story you’ve rehearsed so long
you forgot it was a story.

Step further—
past the hallway of forgotten dreams
where half-written songs still hum
in the bones of your childhood.

Do you hear them?
They never stopped singing.
They are not lost.
They wait,
patient as stone in the river’s shadow.

Keep walking—
past guilt dressed as responsibility,
past shame disguised as humility,
past fear in the robes of reason.

There is a mirror at the center of the labyrinth
that does not reflect your face,
but your flame.

You will not recognize it—
not at first.
It burns too pure
to carry the dust of identity.
It has never aged.
It has never known doubt.
It is the first spark you were,
before time carved its lines in your skin.

It asks no questions.
It gives no answers.
It simply is.

Sit with it.
Be with it.
Let the self you thought you were
burn gently in its presence—
not in destruction,
but in remembrance.

You will remember
not facts,
but truths.

That you are not a wave,
but the ocean wearing a temporary face.
That you are not a seeker,
but the sought, looking for itself in the mirror of form.
That all journeys outward
are echoes of the one great return.

Return now.
Return to the breath,
to the beating heart
you forgot to worship.

Step inward—
and find
you were never lost.

You were only
asleep
inside the dream
of becoming.

Thank-you for reading.

Much Love and Light,

Brenda Marie