Mind Maps — NaPoWriMo Day #13 — a poem about giving yourself enough credit
Come and sit with me a moment.
Hang your crown on the hat rack
and know the absence of that weight.
Kick off the shoes you try so hard to fill.
These mind maps connect our parallel lives,
neurons and synapses lighting up like Christmas trees
between the souls that glow within our skin.
It's sometimes ugly out there in the world,
with sparkling snow turning to dirty slush
and the looks on people's faces giving no hint
as to the untarnished love that may lie within.
I want to remind you
that you were born to win.
I'll spread these charts across every surface,
on the countertops, tables, and floors,
and I'll invite you to pore over them,
to at last view and comprehend
that you are a success—
indeed, one of the best—
that you've already achieved
such paramount dreams.
You'll see how small your pain really is
when compared to the gifts you were given—
that the reason for your being
is so much greater than just surviving.
These tiny photographs of past damage
are yearbook photos in grainy black and white,
while your triumphs are broadcast in high-definition
and rerun regularly, celebrated like a holiday.
You bring me joy when you do what you do
and I love you in your brokenness
as well as when you feel complete.
The good fight hasn't been good to you
and I long to see you let go and live.
What others think doesn't matter
when you know you're all right,
and I promise you are perfect
when you're seen through my eyes.
Let me scribble a few notes
in the margins for you...
Never explain yourself.
Trust the gifts you were born with.
Keep the crown but leave it at home.
Your guardian needed the embellishments
but you're good enough without the gold.
Photo by: Mark Rabe