Mirror Of The Soul Poem by Mario, Lucien, Rene Odekerken

In the stillness I meet myself,
a quiet witness to my being.
There is light, soft and warm,
but shadows linger in its wake.

The good in me speaks gently,
a voice of kindness,
a steady hand reaching outward,
ready to mend, to heal.

Yet, within the same vessel,
storms gather-
anger sharp as broken glass,
doubt heavy as stone.

I sit with both,
neither enemy nor savior.
The bright does not erase the dark,
nor the dark consume the light.

I ask myself:
What can grow in this balance?
What seed can I plant
that will not wither in extremes?

The answer is not to sever
the flawed from the flawless,
but to weave them together,
to make a whole from the fractured.

I breathe,
a choice in each exhale-
to soften,
to steady,
to begin again.