Am I enough? Old enough? Wise enough? To guide another human?
When I can’t see my light, how can I brighten the path for others?
a sister of self-
lurk in the
I go to therapy
Fix my cup,
to fill my cup
That is may overflow
abundantly for them
Abundantly for me.
The shards of my identity,
Once fractured, pull together,
Glued with gold; glistening, guilded cracks,
more valuable for having been broken
with the addition of a little golden chink:
as I own my authenticity,
my learning journey is a strength for me.
My checkered past is glued into a privilege,
now a glittering present to my present and my future,
that I may gift that gold abundantly to all those who work with me.