Sacred Reflection

I used to build the stage
so others could dance.
I lit the candles,
set the table,
paid the price,
held the weight —
believing that joy was a luxury
for someone else.

I made homes happy,
but I lived in the attic of my own life.
I organized the parties,
but never stayed long enough to laugh.
I watched the light in others
and forgot I carried my own.

I believed joy was frivolous.
That stillness was selfish.
That pleasure was a detour
from what really mattered.

But now…
I know better.

Now I walk barefoot into sunrise
and say yes to every color.
Now I taste my food
and let it kiss my soul.
Now I dance in my kitchen
and sing to the stars
like I belong here — because I do.

I don’t wait for joy anymore.
I live in it.

In the scent of jasmine,
in the sound of laughter,
in the way my body hums
when I rest without guilt.

I remember now:
I was never meant to be the background.
I was meant to be alive.
Wildly, tenderly, joyfully
alive.