Growing Pains

Surely, if I abide, the story will write itself.

Right?

Have I yet embraced how you love me?

Help me receive more. 

More interest. More hugs. More of your smile.

You’ve planted me here in this place.

A potted plant already growing, yearning to be bigger.

When once I was a flower in a desert,

A seed planted by wind.

Am I here for a time or by accident?

No, never by chance.

Can I truly reach down deeper?

I’m still soft and sensitive. Still vulnerable. Still curious.

Probably still self-protecting.

What more is here now?

Deep roots, strong limbs, and a soft heart.

Also a woman without the need of certainty,

Finally able to be content where I am at.