Poem: Reclaim Your Magic

Reclaim your magic—
it was never lost,
only buried beneath
quiet compromises
and the weight of other people’s names for you.

It hums still, doesn’t it?
In the small defiance of your breath,
in the way your thoughts wander
toward something brighter
when no one is watching.

You were told to be reasonable,
to file down the wild edges,
to trade wonder
for something more acceptable—
more quiet.

But magic was never meant to behave.

It lives in the parts of you
that refuse to shrink,
in the questions you keep asking
even after the answers disappoint,
in the stubborn glow
that survives every dimming.

Reclaim it.

Not all at once—
magic rarely returns in thunder.
Sometimes it slips back softly,
like light through a cracked door,
like a forgotten song
you suddenly remember how to sing.

Follow that.

Gather the scattered pieces:
your curiosity,
your fire,
your strange and shining ways of seeing.

Let them be enough.
Let you be enough.

And when the world asks you again
to be smaller,
to be quieter,
to be less—

smile,
and become
uncontainable.

Thank-you for reading,

Brenda Marie