Self‑Portrait in Motion Poem, by Friendship, at My poetic side

Self‑Portrait in Motion

In the quiet hour before the day unfurls,

you stand—half‑shadow, half‑sunlight—on the edge

of a mirror that never tells the whole story.

You are the echo of a first breath,

the whispered promise of a name still forming,

a question mark inked on the palate of time.

Your hands, ink‑stained from the drafts of yesterday,

trace the outline of a dream you have not yet named—

each line a tentative promise, each pause a breath held

in the throat of possibility.

The world presses its weight on your shoulders,

yet you learn to wear it like a cloak of woven light,

threads of triumph and failure sewn together,

a tapestry that shivers when you turn toward the wind.

In the garden of your thoughts, thorns and roses bloom;

the thorns are the doubts that bite, the roses the moments

when you catch yourself in a smile you did not expect.

You are the river that carves its own canyon,

sometimes a lazy glide, sometimes a torrent,

always moving, always reshaping the stone of who you think you are.

When night folds its dark velvet over the day,

the stars you summon are the quiet constellations

of your own compassion—bright enough to guide

the tired traveler that lives within your chest.

So step forward, dear self, without apology;

let the rhythm of your heartbeat be the meter,

the pulse of your breath the rhyme.

In every stumble, there is a stanza; in every rise, a chorus,

and in the center, where all verses converge,

you will find the simple, unadorned truth:

You are the poem you have been waiting to write.

Comments +

arqios January 5th, 2026 07:01
A blank slate all to be filled! 🕊️🙏🏻
- FriendshipJanuary 5th, 2026 07:58
  Thank you,arqios,
  I appreciate you stopping by and reading my poem.

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