Poems About Self-Discovery, Growth & Inner Healing

Explore poems that reflect on identity, emotional healing, and personal transformation. Read free introspective poetry that speaks to the soul

My Senses

I listen
with my eyes,
I see
with my touch,
I feel
with my ears.

Filed under: 🜁 Self – tracing the inner landscapes of thought, feeling, and becoming.
An Invite

The pages turn,
The lessons learned.
Yesterday’s story,
In shadows blurred.

Here and now,
A sacred vow.
No echoes of the past,
Only blessings cast.

A dance in time,
A rhythm sublime.
Journey to the start,
A compassionate heart.

From fractures deep,
New love will seep.
The universe’s art,
Love notes to impart.

Whispers below,
Stars’ radiant glow.
Dreams turned real,
Wishes heal.

To give is to gain,
A life’s gentle rain.
Gifts we bestow,
A river’s flow.

A cycle spins,
Where life begins.
Endings and new,
Horizons in view.

Life’s tender touch,
Curiosity as such.
Questions arise,
Truth in our eyes.

Vibrations thrum,
Curiosity hum.
A dance of creation,
Life’s grand narration.

Meaning or delight,
In the heart’s light.
Faith’s gentle grace,
Lessons we embrace.

A journey’s quest,
In choices blessed.
Each path we tread,
A truth ahead.

Invisible strings,
Connected beings.
A world anew,
Love pure and true.

Beyond the pane,
Open hearts gain.
No need for disguise,
Inviting, open skies.

Home’s embrace,
Love’s gentle grace.
A welcome bright,
In shared light.

Filed under: 🜁 Self – tracing the inner landscapes of thought, feeling, and becoming.
A Religion Without God?

Lost in the ligature
between letters of the word,
riding the waves
of the cursive line.

Writing is liberation.
Reading is freedom.
Truth is honesty.

Stories are home.
A live word lived
honestly as truth,
simply within the blood flow
of the letters cursive veins.
A word is a
life lived,
in liberation,
in freedom,
in honesty.

Trading paint colors with the leaves,
stories and folktales with the branches.

With time,
the print of the word is stronger,
and is engraved in our will.
Or it is washed away,
and pentimento is pargeted.

We die when
we’re forgotten.

Calendar create, ritual and elevation.
Community and art,
fragile and vulnerable.
The ordinary is remarkable.
Words repeat.

Amen

Filed under: 🜁 Self – tracing the inner landscapes of thought, feeling, and becoming.
What Is Peace?

Peace is love in silence.

Filed under: 🜁 Self – tracing the inner landscapes of thought, feeling, and becoming.
Love And Truth

Love reveals the truth

.

.

.

Filed under: 🜁 Self – tracing the inner landscapes of thought, feeling, and becoming.
A Live Word

Writing is liberation.
Reading is freedom.
Truth is honesty.

Filed under: 🜁 Self – tracing the inner landscapes of thought, feeling, and becoming.
Footprints Erased

Memories like candles.
They burn,
cry hot wax tears,
then leave a monument.
All while shining a light,
on what you choose
and how you choose,
to see.

I can count many tales
on my hand,
and many wounds
on my arms.
I lay every night
on a pillow
of flame and tears.

I drown inside my head and
break into pieces of kintsugi
inside my heart.

I try to explain,
but no one listens.
Born mute,
learned to speak.
Born different,
learned to fit in.
Born to be me,
and I learned to be you.
I can explain,
But who’s listening?

Wrongly labeled
and wrongly judged.
Back of a hand on lips.
A sword cuts through my lungs.
Thoughts hanged.
Innocence raped.
Natural gifts shot.
And all buried.
No ceremony,
and no farewell.
No time to grieve,
and no time to adapt.
I’m ok.

Here’s a mask,
put it on.
I am told.
You are sin.
Yes I am sin.
Hide your soul.

I can count many tales
on my hand.
I rest my head,
on pillow of fire.
And I drown
in the waters of my thoughts.
I love,
and I hurt.

Forgive me.
Footprints erased.

Filed under: 🜁 Self – tracing the inner landscapes of thought, feeling, and becoming.
Wrap Your Arms Around You

Wrap your arms around you
Give yourself a warm hug
You may be grown up and old
But inside you’re still a child

You’ve passed the station
Of asking no more
And you’ve arrived to a stop
Of not wanting what you need

You love many
And you are loved
But the devil’s footsteps quietly approach
Through the people you love

How can one survives in this world
Without declaring their wants and needs?
With others falsely knowing and
Speaking words that claim your needs?

How can you live
By feeling the need to ask?
When will the uninvited devil walk in?
When will the body rest?

Giving is a gift, not everyone feels

Flooding out of them
Saving and possessing is a curse,
That most feel occupied with

Who is a more willing soul
Than an earth angel
To pay for the wrongs and hurt
That others infected on you

Mother, what would become of me?
Father, where will I be?
Brother, what do you see?
Sister, how do you feel?

You came whole
They broke you
Wrap your arms around your whole self
Feel warmth of your complete embrace

Deep breath

Filed under: 🜁 Self – tracing the inner landscapes of thought, feeling, and becoming.
Bag Of Choices

Why do we esteem ourselves too much merit?
Why do we relieve ourselves of our beneficial deeds?
Why do we ignore the scale of our wisdom practice?

Why do we exaggerate and understate?
Does why matter?

Why spend time finding and placing blame?
Why spend time crafting reasons and excuses?
Why spend time convincing a pack of a root cause?

Your bag of choices,
Leave not at wound scene.
Bouncing from one extreme
To the opposite of what’s seen.

You are wise, you have understanding,
And tools of knowledge you mastered.

The energy and frequency is you.
Walk as you wish, your own created path.
At vibrations of your choice.

Go ahead, the road is open.
Yours it is, no one walked it before.
Live life as you choose.

Do no harm, and attend to.

Filed under: 🜁 Self – tracing the inner landscapes of thought, feeling, and becoming.