Several 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,
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.