Self Portrait

lone treeSeveral years ago I launched on a journey of intense self-discovery. In order to learn what I needed to heal in my life, I had to start with who I knew myself to be at that point in time. I wrote this poem as a jumping off point. I have grown tremendously since I wrote it in 2008, but many of the things I saw in myself then still ring true with me now.

I am a wise old child,

A flower in an undiscovered meadow,

Alone, yet breathing, living,

Growing wild.

I am an empty vessel

Of wasted, stolen time,

A vessel trying to fill itself

With time that can be mine.

I am a soul with holes

The wind screams fretfully through

A soul seeking a path

To fill itself with Truth.

I am marked, scarred

For the world to see.

It is my shame, it is my badge,

It is a part of me.

I am a story, I don’t know how old,

Of needing, aching, love and loss,

Searching, finding, tearing away,

A story not done being told.

I am a giver, a mother at heart,

Incomplete without another soul

To guide and comfort

As they fill themselves and light their dark.

I am fragile, yet stubborn and brave.

Force me through the depths of Hell—

I assure you my heart will beat stronger,

My soul will be richer.

I am not afraid of pain.

I won’t live in a shell.

I reject cynicism, resentment.

I find some vulnerability serves me very well.

I’m searching for all

That I can be and know;

There are many ways I will find

For myself to grow.

My road is endless,

My sky unbound.

The weights may be back-breaking,

But they will never keep me down.

Paths are but choices,

Not all have been mine,

But those times are passing,

It’s time for me to shine.

–Angie Webster

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