In My Hand

In your very hand
Is found the power to open or to close.
And every moment is a crossroads
Which offers both an opening and a closing.
It never ceases to amaze me 
How many miles we are willing to walk in someone else’s shoes.
They do not fit us well.
They leave bruises and blisters on our feet 
With them, we cannot greet the world as ourselves.
But I am glad I was not told these things upon my birth.
For I could not know the sweetness
Of greeting the world as myself
If I had not first known the pain 
Of greeting the world 
As someone that I wasn’t
In my very hand
Is found the crossroads.
You see…
Within all beauty
Are the seeds of pain. 
And within all pain 
Are the seeds of beauty.
And it is my choice, which of these seeds to plant.