Filling My Own Cup

I have given,

drop by drop,

My kindness poured without a sound,

A gentle stream that would not stop

Until my soul ran dry, unbound.

Each need,

each plea,

I answered fast,

A vessel always tipped to pour,

But found my strength could never last

When others always asked for more.

I watched my cup grow thin and bare,

Its golden shine now dulled and worn,

While hands reached out from everywhere,

And left me hollow, tired, and torn.

I long to feel my spirit rise,

To taste the sweetness I have missed,

To see the world through rested eyes,

And know my worth cannot be dismissed.

I dream of mornings just for me,

Of sunlight warming up my skin,

Of gentle moments,

wild and free,

Of letting tenderness begin.

To fill my cup with laughter’s song,

With pages turned and stories read,

With quiet where I can belong,

And peace that settles in my head.

I want to gather what I need

A walk beneath the blushing sky,

A meal enjoyed,

a thoughtful deed,

A breath that lets the worry fly.

For every time I give away

A piece of heart, a bit of light,

I promise now to also stay

And fill myself with what feels right.

No longer will I let the world

Decide how empty I must be,

I’ll let my petals stay unfurled,

And tend my roots, and water me.

I’ll learn to say a gentle “no,”

To honor what my spirit craves,

To let my own wild garden grow,

And not be swept by others’ waves.

For only when my cup is full

Can I give love that’s truly true

A kindness deep and beautiful,

A gift that flows from me to you.

So here I stand,

my hands outstretched,

To gather joy and let it stay,

To fill my cup,

to feel refreshed,

And greet the world in my own way.