Sealed Envelopes

Potential rests in my hands

Like something fragile I might drop

or something heavy with no training to carry.

They say it kindly

Cant wait to see where you go in life

As if it’s a room I have yet to enter,

a life I haven't quite touched.

Where do those words go

after they've been recieved?

They come home.

They sit beside me in the quiet.

They ask questions I don’t know how to answer.

I carry them like sealed envelopes,

full of futures

I haven’t yet opened.

Some days I want to be many things.

Some days I want to be enough as I am.

Most days I stand between the two,

trying to breathe

without wasting the air I have been given.

If potential is real,

teach me how to hold it.

Not like a debt I owe the world,

but like a gift I offer back to You,

unfinished and imperfect.

Maybe I don’t need to answer

who I could be.

Maybe I just need to stay here,

with You,

and learn to surrender all of me.