I'm yearning for my loving self.
The one who’s not so critical and filled with self defense.
The one who doesn’t take other’s ill moods as aimed at her.
The one who pauses before launching counter attacks;
and smiles with a disarming rejoinder.
The one who spends time on the other side of the steel doors
guarding her tender heart...
until she can wear her fragile organ closer to her sleeve
where even the nay sayers can see.
I’m yearning for my brave, fierce self.
The one who doesn’t stand down in the face of ridicule.
The one who uses disagreement as fertilizer
for growing abundant nourishment and beauty
even in decay...envisioning herself cloaked in spider webs.
The one who doesn’t panic at intimidation and chaos
the one who stays alert for small gestures she can contribute
to the river of goodness flowing through tragedy.
The one who sees things as they are and
looks for ways to transmute the unsavory into learning
how to transfigure human failings into kindness and generosity.
I yearn for the one who remembers
here in my own heart is the only place to begin.
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