Poem: The Best I Can

I’ll gather words like morning dew,
soft-shining on the grass—
each fragile, trembling syllable
a moment I let pass.

I’ll spin them into something warm,
a thread of quiet light,
to weave a little lantern
in the dimness of the night.

I’ll let them fall imperfectly,
the way all heart-thoughts do—
not polished into symmetry,
but honest, rough, and true.

And if they reach you gently,
like a breeze across your hand,
then this small poem will have been
the best I could have planned.

Thank-you for reading.

Remember there are many paths back to God.

Follow your own path,

Brenda Marie