Raindrop Mirror
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Bending but never breaking, like the unbroken reed,
the soul finds strength to rise, even when the wild winds sweep. |
Bending, Not Breaking
The wind may howl, a furious, unseen might,
And lash its fury, tearing at the bough.
The fragile stem may sway throughout the night,
And bow its head where angry currents plow.
Yet in that yielding, not a weakness lies,
But wisdom deep, a lesson softly learned.
To meet the force beneath indifferent skies,
And find the strength to rise, though roughly churned.
It's not the oak, unmoving, stiff, and grand,
That braves the tempest with defiant will,
But silent reed, that dances on the sand,
And finds its center, standing firm and still.
The Unseen Root
For deep below, where hidden solace sleeps,
A sturdy root holds fast within the earth.
Through sun-baked days and where the wild rain sweeps,
It draws on life, affirming quiet worth.
A scar may form,
A line upon the soul,
A silent testament to storms endured,
But from that mending, purpose makes it whole,
A new-found power, gently reassured.
To bear the weight, to stand when others fall,
To mend the spirit, weary and distressed,
And answer life's demanding, urgent call,
With inner calm, profoundly truly blessed.
Standing Tall Again
So let the seasons turn, let trials appear,
Let shadows lengthen, testing every stride.
The heart remembers what it holds so dear,
And finds the courage deep within to ride.
For resilience is the quiet, steady hum,
The breath we draw when all seems lost and low.
The promise whispered, that the light will come,
And from the struggle, greater strengths will grow.
To rise again, eyes fixed upon the dawn,
A testament to spirit, pure and bright,
The soul unbroken, moving ever on,
Towards the solace of enduring light.
