Beneath the shroud of midnight’s veil,
Where silent stars in hush prevail,
A lone soul walks with steady grace,
A dream of dawn upon their face.
Through tangled woods of doubt and fear,
They tread where shadows linger near.
Yet in their heart, a fire is fed—
A spark the night has never shed.
They scale the cliffs of weary thought,
In every wound, a lesson caught.
The world may whisper, “Turn around,”
But truth is not in echoes found.
No lantern lights the path ahead,
No map where ancient feet have bled.
Still on they go, through storm and stone,
For seekers never walk alone.
They hear the call no ear can catch—
A pulse of stars beyond the match
Of any sun this world can show,
A light that only seekers know.
And when the morning breaks, the gray,
They’ll find they are the light, the way.
For those who seek with soul and sight
Are born from dusk to birth the light.
Thank-you for reading.
Much Love and Light,
Brenda Marie
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