The Garden of Unbroken Light
“Where is the friend’s house?” the rider asked,
Not to seek an answer,
But to find a soul who would walk beside him.
In the twilight’s glow, a soft wind stirred,
A bough of light touched lips, whispering through the air.
“There is no house where answers bloom,”
Said the poplar, swaying in God’s quiet dream,
“But beyond the alley where love grows blue
As the feathers of honesty,
There you’ll find not someone to fix what’s broken,
But one who stands, unyielding, as you mend.”
The rider stepped towards the flower of solitude,
His heart heavy with unspoken fears,
But the garden opened wide in a rustle of leaves,
And from the earth, a fountain of clear light surged,
Not to wash away the troubles,
But to shine on every crack, every scar.
In the space between heartbeats,
A child climbed a pine tree to gather stars,
Not to scatter them like answers,
But to fill the sky with silent witness.
“Ask him where the friend’s house is,”
But the rider already knew.
For friendship was never a house,
Nor a path to tread with certainty.
It was the echo in the branches,
The hand that held his, though trembling,
The quiet breath beside him in the dark,
The unspoken promise to never turn away.
In the end, the rider found his way,
Not by finding the house,
But by finding the one who stood with him,
As he built his own.
© Samantha Syrnich 2024
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