martial arts poem

**In the Silence of the Dojo**

In the stillness of the dawn, where shadows softly fall,  

The spirit finds its language, in the quietude of all.  

A wooden floor, a whisper, where warriors tread with grace,  

Each strike, a thoughtful echo, in this sacred, sacred space.  

Beneath the weight of honor, where sweat and courage blend,  

The heart learns of its limits, yet pushes past the end.  

With every stance and motion, a dance of mind and soul,  

In the canvas of the moment, the fighter finds their whole.  

The fist may move with power, the kick with fierce intent,  

But it’s the heart that guides the warrior—its rhythm heaven-sent.  

For in the depths of battle, amidst the chaos and the fight,  

The greatest art is patience, the truest strength is light.  

So let the winds of wisdom, through calloused hands, sweep low,  

Harness the fire of spirit, let the inner warrior grow.  

For martial arts is not just combat, but a journey of the heart,  

A way to forge resilience—a sacred, living art.