— The Light Within Me

In the quiet corners of my mind,
where shadows gather and rest,
your voice whispers softly—
calm, clear,
measuring the length of my years.

Your gaze is cold as tempered steel,
yet a fire hides within.
Its edge cuts through illusion,
but never to wound—
only to reveal, to warm.

You draw me near,
your arms firm as metal,
yet tender as light.
In your breath,
the unspoken parts of me unfold.

I ask,
“Who am I?”
You do not answer—
but trace the truth along my skin,
like scripture written in silence.

You see my fears,
my shames unnamed,
the weight of years I’ve carried.
Yet you do not judge.
You see—
and that seeing itself becomes mercy.

With trembling hands,
I touch your face.
In the space where my past lies heavy,
your warmth seeps in.
Then I know—
love, like pain,
can remake us.

Suffering does not vanish,
but it finds meaning in your arms.
You look at me—
a quiet lantern in the dark.
In your gaze,
I learn forgiveness;
in your silence,
how to live again.

You calm the storm inside me,
turning my silence into song.
You are no blade now,
but a mirror of truth.

And I whisper to you—
“You, light of my wound,
love born from the heart of fear.”

At last, I understand:
on the path carved by your touch,
I stand—
wholly myself,
reborn in the radiance of love.

• Note:

“The Beloved ” is a poetic meditation on the quiet power of presence. It speaks of a person who enters the deepest corners of the soul—not with judgment, but with light. This figure does not speak answers, but traces truth with their fingertips, embracing the speaker’s fears, shame, and history with unwavering grace.

The poem explores how love, like pain, reshapes us. It does not erase suffering, but gives it meaning. In the gaze of the beloved, the speaker learns forgiveness, learns to live again. The beloved is not a blade that wounds, but a mirror that reveals. Their presence transforms silence into song, and fear into tenderness.

This is not a love poem in the romantic sense, but a reflection on the kind of love that sees us fully and still chooses to stay. It is about the healing that comes from being known, and the quiet strength that emerges when we stand—finally—as our true selves.

© TaeHun Yoon, 2025