I was asleep, and suffering awakened me.

I was unaware, and the harsh lens of reality

Placed into focus what I refused to see:

That life is a stairway of broken steps,

Leading upward, to growth and actualization

And in the fog of existential aches

I lost sight of myself, completely.

Now, falling backward to the basest step

Having lost my health, livelihood, way forward,

I have come to recognize the beauty of brokeness

Having for the first time in a very long time

Reverenced the gift of simply being alive

The greater purpose of caring for my young dependents

With hope that we are broken down to be built up again

With renewed determination and grateful hearts

For what lies ahead beyond the wreckage.

Published by Quietest Poet

Writer, mother, counselor, flower gardener, recipe seeker, and Netflix lover.

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