I am fertile soil.
For too long I have believed
That I was soil full of
Thorns,
Choking out every planted seed,
Distracted and out of focus,
I fulfilled what I believed.
Decided that I couldn’t help it,
I was sadly, unfortunately,
Who I was.
But who I am
Is fertile soil
Healthy,
Ready,
Watered,
Illuminated by sunlight.
Home to an abundant garden,
Of promise,
And beauty.
Of vision
And hope.
Fertilized with the Word
I will be ground
That grows.
10:43, put the baby to bed.
Finally.
And that’s it.
The day is done.
Essentially.
And what have I done today?
Ate too much of the wrong things.
Sat for too long, looking at a screen.
Window shopped on Amazon.
Called myself fat.
Felt overwhelmed.
Cried.
Promised myself better for tomorrow.
And got a little angry at the day being over.
Why is it over and I can’t change a thing?
And why do I look to tomorrow and know deep down
That it won’t be much different?
10:59.
Sixteen minutes passed and all these thoughts and fears
Are here, whether I like it or not.
I guess I’ll hope for better tomorrow
And try not to feel this way again if it isn’t any better than today.
not-that-mama.ca 