Soul Expression
There is a language
older than breath,
quieter than thought—
it lives beneath the noise
you learned to call yourself.
It speaks in pulses,
in the ache behind your ribs,
in the sudden bloom of tears
you cannot name
but somehow understand.
Your soul does not shout.
It waits—
patient as the tide,
certain as dawn—
for you to listen.
Not to the world’s sharp edges,
nor the borrowed voices
echoing in your mind,
but to the soft insistence
of something deeply yours.
It is there
when you create without reason,
when you love without measure,
when you break
and still reach for light.
Soul expression
is not perfection—
it is truth,
raw and unpolished,
spilling into form.
A brushstroke.
A trembling note.
A whispered word
that feels like coming home.
And in that moment—
unmasked, unguarded—
you remember:
You were never empty.
Only waiting
to be heard.
Thank-you for reading.
Much Love,
Brenda Marie
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Wonderful heartfelt poetry, Brenda!
Thank-you Tim
My pleasure, Brenda. 😍
This is breathtaking, Brenda. 🌷A language older than breath, quieter than thought’—those opening lines alone stopped me in my tracks. You’ve captured something so sacred and often unspoken: the way our deepest truth doesn’t shout, but waits. I love how you honor the ache, the tears we can’t name, the soft insistence beneath all the borrowed noise. And that closing image—‘a whispered word that feels like coming home’—is pure grace. Thank you for reminding us that soul expression isn’t about perfection, but about courage. Raw, unpolished, and real. This poem is a gift.🙏🏼
Thank you so much for this beautiful reflection—it truly moved me. The way you received those lines feels like a quiet conversation between souls, and that means more to me than I can fully express. You’re so right—there’s something about that deeper truth that doesn’t force itself forward, but patiently waits for us to listen.
I’m especially touched that the closing image resonated with you. That sense of “coming home” is exactly what I hoped to evoke—that gentle recognition of something we’ve always known, even if we couldn’t quite name it.
Your words feel like a gift in return. Thank you for reading so deeply and for honoring the spirit of the piece with such care. 💛