Poem: Fill Your Own Cup First

Before you pour into the world,
before you offer your hands
like open windows in a storm,
stand still.

There is a well within you
quiet as dawn,
deep as the pause between heartbeats.
Kneel there.

You are not selfish
for tending your own fire.
A lantern without oil
cannot guide anyone home.

Drink from your own kindness.
Rest in your own arms.
Let your no be a boundary,
not a bruise.

The river does not apologize
for carving its own path to the sea.
The sun does not dim itself
to make the stars more comfortable.

Fill your own cup first—
with silence,
with laughter that belongs only to you,
with dreams untrimmed for others’ approval.

Then, when you pour,
it will not be from emptiness
or fear of being left dry,
but from overflow—

and what spills
will taste like freedom.

Thank-you for reading,

Brenda Marie