Into the light, I walk unshod,
Past the echoes of my former name,
Where silence hums like a hidden God
And nothing is ever the same.
I carried storms בתוך my chest,
Thunder wrapped in fragile skin,
But the light did not demand my best—
It simply asked me to come in.
No judgment stood at that bright door,
No ledger inked with wrongs or right,
Only a warmth I’d felt before
In dreams that vanished with the night.
It knew my fractures, every seam,
The quiet shame I could not speak,
Yet held me like a waking dream
Where even the broken are not weak.
I shed the weight I thought was me—
The masks, the fear, the endless fight,
And found beneath: a clarity
Already glowing with the light.
Now every breath becomes a prayer,
Each step a soft, unfolding flame,
For I have seen what lingers there—
And I will never be the same.
Thank-you for reading,
Brenda Marie
Discover more from Writing Through the Soul
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.
Brenda, this is absolutely stunning. The way you weave vulnerability and transcendence together—especially lines like “the light did not demand my best—it simply asked me to come in”—feels like a quiet, healing prayer. Your imagery of shedding masks and finding clarity already glowing within is so powerful and tender. Thank you for sharing such a luminous piece. It truly stays with the reader.👍🏻🌷🤝
Thank you so much for reading it with such care. It means a lot that those lines resonated with you—they came from a very quiet, honest place. I think I was trying to capture that moment when healing doesn’t feel like effort, but like permission.
Your words about it feeling like a prayer really stayed with me—that’s exactly the kind of space I hoped it might open. I’m grateful it found something in you.
Fascinating poetry, Brenda! 😍
Thank-you so much, Tim
My pleasure, Brenda. 😍