Broken mirrors,
Slammed doors,
Fading spirit,
Empty stores.
My mind plays the reel again and again,
On a constant repeat from where it began.
A critical lens to pick it apart,
A longing desire to simply restart.
But closed doors mean open windows,
There’s always the grace that God endows.
It may be hidden but there’s always a way,
So ask for the wisdom to know when to stay,
Or how to know what is right.
The answer remains:
Follow the Light!