The Light You Lit

I almost set the pen down and you placed light back in my hand. Thank you.

I do not open easily,

not the parts the world can see.

Guarded walls, a heart unsure,

after storms that shook the core.

Gratitude has sat inside,

quiet, patient, never cried.

Vulnerability, a tongue I lack,

words tiptoe, then fall back.

But your lines came soft, then strong,

they pried the door I closed too long.

You did not push, you did not steer,

you wrote beside me, drew me near.

Tired, worn, I nearly fell,

ready to silence my own spell.

Then a light, gentle, steady, bright,

broke the shadow, pierced the night.

Enough to say my voice remains,

the pen still burns in my veins.

You struck the match, I felt the flame,

I hold it now, and call its name.

For patience, faith, the quiet gift,

for the steady light you chose to lift,

I am grateful, every bit,

for the spark you sparked, the light you lit.

Author's Note

For the light that reminded me why I write.

Reviews

[Brandon Houser]

This is very touching.
Every once in a while we need reminders of why we live and why we are drawn to the things we are. We writers especially. We live, and feel everything, for good or ill. The gift is evident in this heartfelt piece, and many others you have shared on here. Your voice and pen have plenty more to share.

[Amy R]

This poem is quite a powerful write, loved the way it flowed, and the ending, WOW.
Beautifully expressed, .Thanks for sharing.
~Amy