This is the poem I wrote for myself. One night, a few years ago, I got the strongest urge to write, and this just poured out of my pen. Now, I usually have to work my writing to death, but this one came out just like this. It was pretty cool. (My chosen family name is Storm)
I am not
made for tailored clothes and
I am made for flowing skirts and
leather boots and
silk so soft it feels like air against my skin.
I am made for riotous, kaleidoscopic colors that
swirl and flash around me.
I am made of Fire and Water, Earth and Sky.
I am made of gold and silver, and
sparkling gemstones fall from my mouth
when I speak.
I am made to dance, not plod; to sing,
not speak moderately.
I am made to nurture and to fill with light and
to be filled with light in return.
I am Created; Creator.
I am storm.