Poem: Ash and Bloom

In silence falls the final breath,
A hush upon the fields of death,
Where shadows stretch and stars grow cold,
And time lets go its weary hold.

The leaves descend, a rustling hymn,
The light of day grows faint and dim,
Yet in the soil where endings lie,
The seeds of dawn begin to try.

What once was stone, now turns to dust,
What once was fire, returns to trust—
That in the dark, beyond the pain,
A spark will catch, and rise again.

The bones of trees in winter bare
Still whisper life is sleeping there;
And though the rose may bow and fall,
Its roots remember spring’s soft call.

So death, a door, not just a wall,
Unwinds the thread, yet threads it all—
A breaking, yes, but breaking through
To something old, and something new.

For every tear that carves the face,
A river runs to some new place.
And every heart that breaks apart
May find new rhythm in its start.

So mourn the dusk, but know it true:
Rebirth begins where death walks through.

Thank-you for reading.

Much Love and Light,

Brenda Marie