Reflections Beneath

Every reflection, even sorrow’s, is the Spirit showing us how light bends through memory.

There is a solemnity

to selectively weighted,

carefully curated contemplations.

The night calls them.

ever nearer the surface,

of memory’s reflective sea beneath its purpose.

Those malformed regrets,

the paths not taken when

trekking the tumultuous terrain again —

of yesterday, today, for tomorrow’s refrain.

Phantasms of failure and triumph remain,

mystifying moments with mercurial disdain.

They come like rippling reflections,

byproducts of mirrored introspections —

regret’s depths deepening sorrow’s directions.

Yet there is an unspoken promise in tonight’s hush:

that if there is a now, He may lead us to then —

the perfect crystallization of tomorrow — Amen.

As always,

Dust

If this piece found you, perhaps it was meant to.

I ask only this: share it with those few souls whose hearts would understand the hush between the words.

There are now over two hundred writings gathered here — reflections, prayers, and fragments of light — each born from listening rather than striving.

May they find the ones who need them most, and may every shared word return as grace upon the wind.