Mercy Through the Cracks (A poem for the parts of us still waiting to be seen)

Look within, where shadows play,

Where parts of you were tucked away.

A child once brave, then told to hide—

Still lives beneath your grown-up pride.

They colored too bright, they laughed too much,

Got scolded for their tender touch.

They asked too deep, they dreamed too wide,

Until the world said, “Step aside.”

But cracks were made—that much is true.

And through those breaks, the light shines through.

Your past is not a thing to fight,

It’s how the soul invites in light.

A place to kneel, and gently tend

The child who waits for you to mend.

Say: “I’m the one I needed then.

I won’t betray myself again.

I’ll be the arms I longed to find.

The steady voice, the softest kind.”

This isn’t shame. This isn’t blame.

This isn’t trying to name a name.

It’s choosing now to heal, not flee—

To parent who you used to be.

So when you feel that ancient ache,

That whisper only you can wake—

Don’t shove it down or try to flee—

That’s your own child saying, “Please see me.”

Through every crack, let mercy pour.

You are the love you’re longing for.

And every time you choose to stay,

You light your own forgotten way.