Of Beginnings

some poetic play this weekend

I am a beginning

I am beginning

I begin

again

The day I was born, I became a beginning. Not of my own making of course. I also became the beginning of my own mother becoming a mother to two. The beginning of someone singularly unique. The beginning of my sister becoming an older, elder, oldest sister.

We are all beginnings.

I am the beginning of my own children. My children their very own beginnings. We are all beginning again.

Every morning I am a beginning. Of exactly who I’ve been becoming, arriving in that moment, that beginning of a new day.

I am thankful for the things and places and ways of being that I am not beginning again. These not beginnings have allowed some things I once only dreamed of.

I am a beginning

I am beginning

I begin

again

These words—like every beginning—hold so much possibility.

Are you beginning?