Poetry Minisode - "Golden Light of Truth" | Sam Horton

FOR EPISODE LINKS & MORE INFO VISIT: https://samhorton.co/blog/ep64

In this mini-episode of Soul Led Creative Women, Sam Horton reads an original poem taken from a personal reflective creative moment of her every day life.

This one is titled "Golden Light of Truth"

And asks the question:
Can you recall a moment where you felt yourself swept away by a strong emotion, but then paused, just long enough to question it?

What old story or fear was playing out in that moment? And what would it look like to return, gently, to the part of you that already knows the truth beneath the trigger?

Sam says: This piece honours the sacred pause, that breath of awareness where a quiet inner knowing rises above the noise. It is a return to discernment, to soul-truth, to the part of us that can observe without becoming fused with old emotions. Instead of acting from urgency, we begin to choose presence. We soften. We witness. And in that, we remember our power, that we are not the storm of our reactions, but the vast sky that holds it all with compassion.

Take care,
Sam x

FOR EPISODE LINKS & MORE INFO VISIT: https://samhorton.co/blog/ep64

Transcript

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Ep 64: Golden Light of Truth

[00:00:00] Hey, Sam here. This is a bonus mini episode featuring one of my substack poems. this episode is only a few minutes long, but I hope it brightens your day in some way. The sentiment behind this week's poem emerges from the deeply human experience of recognizing when we've been hijacked by our old default behaviors. For me, this can show up as panic and desperation. Um, resulting in anger and confrontation. I know this isn't everyone's default.

Some people shut down and hide. Others cry with overwhelm. Uh, some of us struggle to separate ourselves from the voices and emotions of others, and ultimately, this is the stress response, right? We're either in fight flight. Uh, or freeze mode. So these are [00:01:00] often survival strategies rooted in past wounding, triggered by something or someone external to us outside of our control.

in this poem. That moment of reckoning is tender and pivotal when we catch ourselves and ask, is this real? Is this true? The answer more often than not is no, it's not our present wisdom speaking, but the echo of old stories, this piece honors the sacred pause, that breath of awareness where there's a quiet inner knowing that rises above the noise.

It's a return to discernment, to soul truth. To the part of us that can observe without becoming fused with old emotions. Instead of acting from urgency, we begin to choose presence. We soften, we witness,and in that space, we [00:02:00] remember our power, that we are not the storm of our reactions, but the vast sky that holds it all with compassion.

So as you are, um, listening to this poem, I invite you to reflect, I invite you to think about a moment where you felt swept away by strong emotions, but then paused just long enough to question it. What old story or fear was playing out in that moment for you, and what would it look like to return really gently to the part of you that already knows the truth beneath the trigger?

So let this be your reminder that your presence is powerful, your awareness is enough, and even one conscious breath can begin the shift back to your truth. Now for the poem, enjoy

golden light of truth. There is a [00:03:00] moment, a hairline crack in time. just, wide enough to let Ian a trickle of golden light. I feel it now. The surge. The spin. Panic, clawing up my throat. Anger, dressed as rigidity, desperation, begging to be heard. I used to go with it, ride the wild fire, speak from the burn.

But now I catch myself. Now I pause. I see her. The version of me who lunges, defends, needs to fix it now. Make it make sense. And something quiet rises, not a voice, a knowing, is this real? Is this true? The heat says yes, and the past screams with certainty, [00:04:00] but my soul, she shakes her head soft and slow. She knows this isn't mine.

Not really, not anymore. So I breathe deep into the belly. Where truth waits patient and unafraid, I release the tension, shatter the noise, and choose the tenderness that was always there. Humming underneath. It doesn't need fixing. It needs witnessing. It doesn't need control. It needs compassion. I return not to the story, but to myself.

Not to reaction, but to rhythm. Here in this quiet space, I remember I am the sky, not the storm. And what external forces trigger me are not real battles. They do not define me and no longer own me. I can simply shine a [00:05:00] light on them and let them go. Thanks for listening to the end. If you like this poem, please let me know if you want more of this type of content from me. Your feedback is often the spark that helps me turn random creative ideas into consistent ways of communicating my message. And adding value. If you'd like to support me, please buy me a coffee and leave a short message. 

Sharing. What you like about my content. Visit the "Support the Show" link in the show. show. notes or visit buymeacoffee.com/ samhortonstudio. Take care.