Healing

At birth, they presented me with a mirror.
The subtle reflection haunted me with the design of a shadowed life.
There was the ancestry to which I was bound,
There was the homeland from which I had been broken,
There were my parents, waiting expectantly.

This looking glass forged ahead – steering my path.
Any crack that appeared, the world told me was fine.
Any small stumble – I should find my way back.
Every moment scratched the surface, etching my hurt and my joy and my expectations.

I thought I was following a masterpiece,
Until it shattered.

I stare at the pieces beneath my feet,
Cutting myself while sifting through the wreckage.
Every shard – a piece of the story that I had written.
Or was it written for me?

I pause, wanting to leave it all behind.

But instead I stay.
Instead, I paint.

Over time, one piece shimmers,
Another one glows,
And before my eyes, the colors of the rainbow appear
Between the ragged fractures of the past.

I rearrange, I recreate.
I place these stained glass fragments and build something new.

And moment by moment, I begin to see;
This is the beauty that I am willing to fight for.