Poem: Integrating the Higher Self

There’s a whisper in the marrow—
a golden thread through every breath,
soft as dawn but deep as thunder,
calling you beyond your death.

It speaks not in words but knowing,
a pulse beneath the noise of mind,
the part of you that’s never broken,
the part the world can’t quite define.

You’ve built your life from fragments—
dreams, regrets, and borrowed pain;
but the higher self waits patient,
like sunlight through a windowpane.

To integrate is not ascension,
nor some flight beyond the flesh—
it’s to walk as soul in motion,
to let the two halves mesh.

It’s meeting your shadow gently,
forgiving what the mirror shows,
and watching the wound turn into wisdom
as the river of being flows.

In stillness, you feel the merging—
the small self bows, the greater stands.
You are both the seeker and the silence,
the wave returning to its sands.

So breathe—each breath a bridge,
each heartbeat an unveiled vow.
You are not reaching for the higher self—
you are remembering it, now.

Thank-you for reading.

Remember there are many paths back to God.

Follow your own path,

Brenda Marie