Whispers from the Heights
In the hush between two thoughts, it stirs—
A voice not loud, but deeply known,
Not made of flesh, nor time, nor earth,
Yet feels more real than bone or stone.
It moves like light beneath the skin,
A compass drawn in sacred fire,
Not pushing—only pulling in,
Toward some quiet, vast empire.
It speaks in signs, in dreams, in breath,
In every still, surrendered hour,
And guides me past the reach of death
To where the soul reclaims its power.
I’ve walked through fear, through loss, through ache,
Through shadowed doubts and tempests wild,
Yet every fall, each wound I take,
I rise—reborn, both beast and child.
There’s wisdom in the silent way
It draws me where I dared not go,
The path is dark, but I obey,
For somehow, deeper still—I know.
It is not other, far or grand,
It is the me I’ve yet to be,
It holds my heart in open hand,
And sings the song that sets me free.
No map, no proof, no claim to show,
But every step is star-aligned—
For when I move with soul in tow,
I walk the dreams my God designed.
Thank-you for reading.
Remember there are many paths back to God.
Follow your own path,
Brenda Marie
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