When strength grows quiet
and the body moves with careful breath,
remember—
the light within you remains untouched.
Though illness unsettles the surface of your days,
it cannot trespass upon the luminous center
where your true self lives and shines.
You have known the weight of the long night—
when hours stretch endless as stone,
and silence gathers deep as an ocean about you.
You have searched the heavens for a sign,
and finding only shadow,
have wondered if morning had forgotten your name.
But the dawn does not forget.
Continue reading “The Dawn That Does Not Fail [a poem]”
Your hands once held the vessel whole—
smooth with years, unmarked by sorrow,
a simple offering of days.
But it slipped, and in a breath
was scattered—
pieces lying fragile and sharp
upon the ground of grief.
You gathered them, trembling,
yet could not restore what once had been.
And so the fragments remained—
not as they were,
but as something waiting to be remade.
The fire did not burn you down.
Though it arrived without warning—
swift, unrelenting,
devouring the edges of what once seemed enduring—
still, you remained.
Not untouched.
Not inviolate.
But whole, in a way the flames could never unmake.
You did not vanish beneath the ruin.
You were refined within it.
![On the Days That Hurt [a poem]](https://i0.wp.com/healthinspiration.org/wp-content/uploads/2025/05/pexels-photo-355235.jpeg?fit=1200%2C800&ssl=1&resize=40%2C40){kind=small}
![The Fire Didn’t Burn You Down [a poem]](https://i0.wp.com/healthinspiration.org/wp-content/uploads/2025/06/butterfly-chess-board-women-s-board-edelfalter-158327.jpeg?fit=1200%2C800&ssl=1&resize=40%2C40){kind=small}
