Poem: Healing

When shadows fall and silence grows,
Where sorrow hides and no one knows,
There lies a place, so still, so whole—
The quiet path to heal the soul.

Not with haste or sudden flame,
But gentle touch, a whispered name.
Like morning dew or evening rain,
It washes grief, it soothes the pain.

The soul does not forget the scar,
But learns how strong its pieces are.
Through every tear, through every role,
A light returns within the soul.

It mends through music, breath, and trees,
Through loving hands and ocean breeze.
Through words that lift, and time that stays,
And silent prayers in golden rays.

So trust the slow, unfolding grace,
The sacred hush, the soft embrace.
For even when you’ve lost control,
There waits a dawn to heal the soul.

Thank-you for reading.

Much Love and Light,

Brenda Marie