Sacred Reflection

I used to live in shadowed rooms,
Where memory rewrote my days.
The past, a reel I could not pause,
The guilt rehearsed a thousand plays.

I carried conversations never had,
Like stones inside my chest.
Each one a whispered, aching wish —
An echo I could not arrest.

And when the past would quiet down,
The future stole the mic instead.
What-ifs and fears became my lens,
While joy and presence slowly fled.

I lived inside a quiet cage —
One door marked “then,” one marked “soon.”
But never did I feel the sun,
Or sit beneath the silver moon.

Until I chose this breath, this beat,
This single moment soft and wide.
No script to follow, no regret —
Just breath and earth and stars as guide.

Now presence is my sacred path,
Not bound by time, nor ruled by fate.
The gift of life unfolds right here —
And I no longer hesitate.

I do not want to miss this now,
The texture of this breath, this tear.
Where I am is where I long to be.
Where I am is holy. And I am here.