Through dawn of stars and morning’s hush,
The soul begins its sacred rush—
From formless depths to breath and bone,
It wakes to find itself alone.
A flicker born of heaven’s flame,
With neither fear nor earthly name,
It drifts through dreams in cradle’s sway,
A silent watcher of the day.
In youth, it stumbles through the fire,
Drawn by longing, love, desire—
Each wound a door, each tear a key,
Unlocking truths it cannot see.
It dances shadows, chases light,
Wrestles wrong, defends the right,
Tastes the ash of bitter ends,
And learns the weight of foes and friends.
Then stillness comes—a turning wind—
The soul reflects on where it’s been.
No longer lost in “ought” and “seems,”
It walks the edges of its dreams.
It climbs the mountain of the self,
Beyond the need for praise or wealth,
And finds, within the quiet space,
A vast and formless, sacred place.
It hears the stars, it speaks to trees,
It learns the language of the breeze,
It knows the heart behind all form—
Both winter’s death and spring reborn.
Until at last, the soul returns
With wisdom gathered, lessons burned—
Not to escape, but to become
The light it once was drifting from.
Thank-you for reading.
Remember there are many paths back to God.
Follow your own path,
Brenda Marie
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This is a breathtakingly transcendent poem— Brenda 🤝 a soul’s odyssey rendered in luminous, lyrical strokes. The journey from celestial origin to earthly trials and back to enlightenment mirrors the arc of spiritual awakening, where every wound and wonder becomes a teacher. The imagery—stars, fire, mountains, and whispering winds—feels both ancient and intimate, like a hymn to the self’s eternal dance between form and infinity. The closing lines tie the cosmic loop with grace: the soul doesn’t flee existence but alchemizes it, returning as the light it once knew. A masterpiece of introspection and awe.