Poems about Personal Transformation

the same way
i count my thoughts
in shapes
& constellations
strung together
one too many times.

We change, turn over covers and apple strudels.
We wake, fresh out the oven.
We grow meeting seasons with new energy.

Be a tree.
We do not know why we are here.

Neither do trees.

Purpose lives, breathes, shakes our cores, spirits, and psyches.

I was blessed with a body, arms that wrap around my community, hands that are warm
and I whistle wind songs, chiming tunes, writing rhythms extending towards you.

I am resilient. I am unique. I am unconventional. I am authentic.

Trees cannot be replicated as replacement carries new weight, manufacturing wisdom
in my palms, reaching up, grounding myself in moss and stone and cement.

No matter where I go, I leave a mark.

One human thumbprint
is worth more
Than a thousand.

Learn
To be
Forgiving

An open cloud
Welcoming a rainbow
Still rising
After every storm

Through lighting
Quaking earth
Fear and failure
Stay in the sky

Come nightfall
Spread thin
Straying into morning
Accept the sun

Glide ahead
Through strikes
Not hiding
Only releasing

A cloud
Always changing
Never ceasing
Its softness on dark days

Learn
To be
Forgiving

I breath solace
Tasting flurries of foam
Fantasizing of feathers
Caressing the water
Cleansing, I am here
This moment turns
Grey stones into safe spaces
Contemplating nothing
Enjoying my pencil tracing
Over my pages in the books
Carrying across the next moment

Until tomorrow,
Friend.

It took oh so long to get myself straight
Doubtfulness delaying all the right things
Herbal teas, mysticism, oral fixations
Wise words written by those from before me

Take lots of advice, some good, some not;
Whatever you do don’t try to heal too fast
Except if you accept or grin and bear it
Growth and change are inevitable

Played the fool by truth that was yet not truth
No one will take pity on feeble attempts
Such contrived representations: unless you
Want them to, and you don’t want them to

Picked myself up and dusted myself off
Chose to contradict - to deny my demise
Sang my song out loud without audience or reason
Smiled and laughed and reveled in it all

Ready to live for the here and what’s next
Forsake the past, the need to make right by
Fulfilling adolescent fantasies
Made of cathartic Hollywood endings

I had to look within while I was doing without
We all need to find one another but
The key to my recovery lay in
The discovery of what makes me, me

Please, don’t cheer at my progress! You may smile,
But let your smiles be kindly and not wry -
Not “There you see - we told you so!”. That style
Can sting.
Picture instead a fractured sky,
Filtering sunlight to a still-dark place,
Testing my skin, and scattering only shy
Freckles of happiness across my face.

After,
i was in therapy for years
CBT worksheets plotted purposefully amongst childhood paraphernalia
from corners, soft lamplight was thrown like a duvet
trying to drape coziness 
over the confining clinical unease.
and they were all the same
like a drugstore halloween costume labeled “safe space”
it was a factory-made attempt
to resemble the real thing
on grey walls hung posters advertising healing
as a landscape with peaks and valleys 
true as it may be,
the message seemed a joke 
from the merry-go-round’s plastic saddle.
one after the other
well-meaning professionals gobbled up
veiled confession 
i can’t eat because it’ll make my thighs too big
was easier to offer up 
than 

i can’t eat because looking like a woman 
is what drew him in 
full from my empty bellied half-truths 
they would rub their satisfied stomachs
nodding as they prescribed me 
a 50mg prize 
 
After,
i became lost in a body 
that no longer felt mine
Shame sinking me deeper by the day.
not long was I gone before
the missing signs went up around me
the photo used was of the girl before
my family and my friends searched,
pleaded, despaired,
but soon the search was abandoned 
and from my warm corpse 
i watched as my mother,
destroyed by guilt 
believing she had failed me
mourned her child. 
watched as my friends moved on,
unable to keep reaching outward
only to return with untouched palms. 
i watched as my kind father,
eyes heavy and confused 
opens his arms wide
like a shoreline of pure hope
and he calls me to make my way 
back to him 
desperate for an embrace
from his lost child
it would be five long years 
until I would return 
to the warm sands of touch 
 

After,
You gave me this Shame. 
Shame that denied delicious food
lovingly made with intention and care 
Shame that shut me out from the world 
from relationships
from school
from parties
from sex 
from me 
years passed by under the weight 
of it’s control 
but now I know
that this Shame you gave me 
isn’t mine. 
the burden, the disgust,
the blame, 
the things you placed in me 
when you took away my childhood 
and my voice 
I can see now, they were never actually mine
this Shame is Yours. 
 

Now, 
after all this time 
You take it back. 
 
 
In loving memory of Before. 

A life of Trauma is like a life at stormy sea

The brutal storms and changing tides drowned you in an instant in time. 

The crashing waves beat you around and forever the fear pins you right down. 

When you look towards the horizon's way, you're hoping and begging for better brighter days. 

And when all you can do is continue to fiercely pray, and even with skies that are full of grey 

the Creator tries to guide and lead the way... to try and teach a beautiful better way.....

Learn to sing, dance, and sway with the waves as they are beautiful too.

Weak, weak, weak.
My mind is in a fog.
My vision is in a haze.
This is how I spent many of my days.
Days, weeks, months, years…
My inner being drowning from tears.
And now, I have a sense of strong.
I haven’t mastered it yet but I am no longer all wrong.
I have a sense of strong…
to get me through my days.
I have a sense of strong…
to look past the haze.
A day at a time, I continue to climb.
A day at a time, I clear my mind.
Be gentle they say, you’ll find your way…
I believe you now, thank you and have the best day.

I have a tortured mind and you may too.

After you read this poem, may I suggest to say, “I release you.”

The mind is cunning…

Oh yes, it’s wise.

But these thoughts are not truly yours nor mine…

They are not for us to keep.

Live and be free in your light.

Shed those bad thoughts…

The ones that come about all day and all night.

You are perfectly imperfect.

Yes, All of you…

So own it! 

Live it!

And tell these thoughts, I release you!