The Beauty of PAIN

I have had the privilege of spending the weekend with my siblings a privilege I call it for that is what it is. I have been struggling to figure out what my blog is truly about, for to label myself an inspiration was too big of a title. A writer a word I feared to call myself for I am not worthy of such a role, a poet a title to I have run from.so who am I and what am I doing what do I have to give... simply put; myself. I do not have any materialistic gifts to bear I have heart passion beauty that’s me.

I have been beautifully moulded by life and all its trials how and when I know not but I do know. something has been altered in my heart. A caged bird set free a voice finally uttered. my brother said something that left me awed, "I love the beauty that we find in the pain we have been through". those words etched some carvings in me.  that was one of those things that had you gasping that really truly honestly all that we go through have gone through and will still go through is not in vain not for nothing.

The thought I often have is that all we go through difficult or not is a reminder to breathe, the hard knocks of life possess beauty and grace. Engraved with the type of lesson that can change my life. I have friends, family, and acquaintances that I hold dear, which I watch from afar and wonder what moves them. I see their significance and miss my own. 

For the lack of a narrative of my own I steel EE Cummings' words 'here is the deepest secret nobody knows (here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows higher than soul can hope or mind can hide) and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart'- I am someone. Not only, someone's sister, daughter, friend, leader, but someone, an individual worth something. I have some choices to make difficult ones every day. Will I speak? Will I pursue my dreams? Will I have the courage to really write what is in my heart? Will I?

I am a Writer...

my story a working progress

my scars are the grammar

my experiences the intro

my victories the conclusion

I am a Writer...

It has taken me so long to say that to myself least to you. Pain has changed me, hurt me but, I have chosen to find the beauty in its mist for to simply, will it away and have its presence a waste of life is a tragedy A Writer I am but, I am more, what exactly, I still push to discover.