In the hush between heartbeats, where shadows reside,
A flicker awakens, too soft to hide.
Not sun, not flame, not bold and grand—
But the kind you cradle in your hand.
It does not shout, it does not burn,
It waits for sorrow’s slow return.
And when the night is cold and deep,
It climbs the walls where silence sleeps.
It lives in glances, quiet prayers,
In kindness caught unawares.
A single word, a reaching touch—
The light we seek need not be much.
It breaks not doors, but finds the key
In places, fear thought none would see.
And though the dark may press and cling,
The smallest light can still take wing.
So hold it close when hope feels thin—
The dark is not where ends begin.
For every dusk that pulls you low,
A spark remains, however slow.
Thank-you for reading.
Much love and Light,
Brenda Marie Fluharty
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