Poem: The Hero’s Journey

In quiet dawn where silence lies,
A call comes soft beneath the skies.
A whisper on the wind begins,
A world beyond the self within.

The hearth is warm, the path unknown,
Yet something stirs in flesh and bone.
The map is vague, the heart unsure—
But every step is part of lore.

A mentor waits with wisdom worn,
To guide the soul by trial torn.
With talisman or cryptic rhyme,
They mark the edge of sacred time.

Across the threshold, dark and wide,
Where fear and shadow often hide,
The hero walks through storm and flame,
In search of truth, or love, or name.

Temptation sings, and doubt may bite,
But allies gather in the night.
A sword is earned, a beast is slain—
The hero falls, then stands again.

In deepest cave, the treasure sleeps,
Guarded by loss, or pain that weeps.
But in that dark, the light is won,
A gift of stars, or second sun.

The road winds back, the self remade,
Old wounds now worn like gold inlaid.
The world unchanged, yet not the same,
For one returns who knows their name.

So round and round the spiral goes,
Each journey births, destroys, bestows.
For heroes rise when souls dare yearn—
And in the leaving… we return.

Thank-you for reading.

Many blessings to all.

Much love and light,

Brenda Marie