I felt a quiet kind of peace. It reminded me that we’re all walking our own paths—sometimes clear, sometimes lost in the fog—but every step matters. The last line, “let the earth reclaim my sleep,” really touched me. It feels like a gentle acceptance of life’s end and a return to calm.
Alex, thank you! And welcome to my corner of Substack. I hope that we get to know each other through our work. I am going to pop over and have a look at your work. 💖
Brenda that was lovely! I got a feeling as if i wrote it. You write much better than me but at the core the thinking is same! I loved it! Stay blessed ! Read my other poems also not for anything, just they might resonate with you !
Your words walk gently through my soul… tracing the courage it takes to choose, to wander, to endure. I felt the dust on my own boots as I read, the ache of shadowed lands, the hush of fields where stories bloom. You’ve captured the bittersweet truth of journeying… that every path, whether golden or brambled, shapes us to who we become.
your final stanza settled into me like quiet truth.
Most turn away from the thought of death, but I do not. I’ve walked beside it, witnessed its silence, and come to accept it not as an end, but as a return. Your words… “I will rest my step where silence weeps” … felt like my own. There’s grace in that surrender, and you’ve captured it beautifully.
You write with such courage and tenderness. Your voice doesn’t just wonder… it walks with wisdom.
A reminder… that even when the way grows dim, we carry hope, and that the earth, in the end, welcomes us home.
I leave you with this quote from the Tuscarora — a Native American people originally from what is now North Carolina. Their wisdom reflects a deep reverence for our ancestors and the belief that spirit and memory transcend physical death.
“They are not dead who live in the hearts they leave behind.” … Tuscarora
Thank you for your wonderful response to my poem. You made me cry. From happiness. You have just validated me as a writer. I appreciate you. Glad you felt what I felt when I wrote this. ❤️
I felt a quiet kind of peace. It reminded me that we’re all walking our own paths—sometimes clear, sometimes lost in the fog—but every step matters. The last line, “let the earth reclaim my sleep,” really touched me. It feels like a gentle acceptance of life’s end and a return to calm.
Thanks AlixH. I really love you replies ❤️
Hi Brenda , it’s my pleasure !
Loved it! 😍
Thanks!🌸
Every path leads to an event we don’t know till it happens. Lovely poem, Brenda!
Thank you Rea.
Such a lovely poem that I had to subscribe! Great work!!!!
Alex, thank you! And welcome to my corner of Substack. I hope that we get to know each other through our work. I am going to pop over and have a look at your work. 💖
Thank you so much! I am a weird soul. I even have my own form of poetry. Your writing is inspiring!
Tha😀nk you and I like your writing that I subscribed too
Brenda, this is beautiful. ❤️
Brenda that was lovely! I got a feeling as if i wrote it. You write much better than me but at the core the thinking is same! I loved it! Stay blessed ! Read my other poems also not for anything, just they might resonate with you !
Hi. Thank you. I will pop over and read your poems. 🌺
Dear Brenda,
Your words walk gently through my soul… tracing the courage it takes to choose, to wander, to endure. I felt the dust on my own boots as I read, the ache of shadowed lands, the hush of fields where stories bloom. You’ve captured the bittersweet truth of journeying… that every path, whether golden or brambled, shapes us to who we become.
your final stanza settled into me like quiet truth.
Most turn away from the thought of death, but I do not. I’ve walked beside it, witnessed its silence, and come to accept it not as an end, but as a return. Your words… “I will rest my step where silence weeps” … felt like my own. There’s grace in that surrender, and you’ve captured it beautifully.
You write with such courage and tenderness. Your voice doesn’t just wonder… it walks with wisdom.
A reminder… that even when the way grows dim, we carry hope, and that the earth, in the end, welcomes us home.
I leave you with this quote from the Tuscarora — a Native American people originally from what is now North Carolina. Their wisdom reflects a deep reverence for our ancestors and the belief that spirit and memory transcend physical death.
“They are not dead who live in the hearts they leave behind.” … Tuscarora
With respect and grace,
Steve
Thank you for your wonderful response to my poem. You made me cry. From happiness. You have just validated me as a writer. I appreciate you. Glad you felt what I felt when I wrote this. ❤️
What a beautiful poem! It has a Scottish or Celtic sound to it! I love the subject of roads/pathways that it has too! ✨💜
Thank you! What a lovely surprise — I didn’t intend a Celtic feel, but I’m thrilled it came through for you! 😊🌸
Beautifully written. I feel this.
Thank you Karen and for the restack. That means so much. ❤
Thank you kindly. I am so happy that you felt it too. 💞
Amazing… 😇
Thank you! 😀
You’re most welcome….
Nice rhythm Brenda!
Thank you kindly Chris. 😃
Thank you for the restack. 🌸