A Constellation Of My Own Making

I think I forgot something

important—I forgot who I was.

This morning, I poured a cup of sage tea

and watched the golden sunrise

spill across the sky.

A drop of my essence

returned to me.

Somewhere,

lost in the threads of time,

I had left myself behind.

But little by little,

I gathered fragments

in the halls of quiet museums,

in the soft hush of rain,

in the chapters of a tragic book,

in the laughter of a friend.

I saw the candle flicker

and remembered the fire in my soul—

the hunger to light

my path into the unknown.

I looked at the moon,

and she returned

a piece of my heart,

dusted with stars.

I am the forest.

I am the river.

I am the wind

that brings everything

back together.

Everywhere, a piece of me sleeps,

waiting to awaken.

I gather myself, piece by piece,

light by light,

breath by breath.

And I rise,

no longer lost,

but luminous,

a constellation of my own making.

This was written by our contributing writer, Andreea Cristine.

The Up & Coming Magazine