I know my shadow better than my reflection.
I don’t recognize my hands without dirt in the creases,
Illuminating the lines and patterns of my palms.
I see myself in the context of this meadow: small, yet influential.
I watch my feet step over aspens and move along the trail of dandelions.
I hear my laughter coax others into a chorus of mirth.
I forget what my skin looks like underneath the layers.
My thoughts are foggier after a short sleep.
My body rests better on my back.
My eyes are drawn to trees,
To observe their branches curve and bark twist.
My worth is in the wilderness.
My strength is in my stride.
My purpose is in peace.
A piece of me is my appearance,
I don’t know that side of myself as well as you do.
What I know is my strength.
What I trust is my heart.
What I value is my intention.
What intentional time I have,
I choose to look at the world around me and not at myself.