The Mirror Will Clear

They say I’d make a healer true,
A soul who sees what others rue.
I read their hearts, their silent cries,
And spot the truth behind their eyes.

I know who lifts, who pulls away,
Who’s meant to leave, who’s meant to stay.
For others, I can see so clear—
What feeds their joy, what draws their fear.

But when I turn that gaze within,
The lines grow blurred, the noise creeps in.
My own past choices, not so wise—
I trusted masks, believed the lies.

Still, time has taught and pain refined,
The quiet strength I’ve come to find.
My heart, though cracked, still beats with grace,
A wiser rhythm, slower pace.

The fog is lifting from my view,
The wounds are old, the hope is new.
And when love comes, I’ll know it then—
The kind that doesn’t break, but bends.

The kind that sees the soul beneath,
And holds it gently, like a wreath.
No need to rush, no need to chase,
I’ll meet them in the quiet place.

Till then, I give what I’ve been shown,
Help others find what I’ve now known.
It’s easier to guide their way—
But mine grows brighter, day by day.

The mirror’s clearing, soft and slow,
And soon enough, I too will glow.
For others, yes—I’ve helped them see.
And now, at last…
I’m learning me.