Gentle Light

No voice is lost, no breath too small,

Each fleeting sound sustains us all,

The pause between the notes we hear,

Can shape the song we hold most dear.

The faintest star still marks the skies,

A beacon seen by searching eyes,

What seems too weak to bear the night,

Can hold the world in gentle light.

A single hand may seem too slight,

Yet still it turns the wheel of night,

The quiet act, the humble deed,

Becomes the gift all hearts will need.

So every soul, however frail,

Has meaning in the greater tale,

The smallest flame, the quiet breath,

Can turn the course of life and death.

Cathrine Hottran  2025