What is Your Mission? An Exploration in Seven Movements

What is your mission?

I

I am the first spark of dawn,
The breath before a word escapes—
a question lingering like smoke.
My shape is undefined,
My edges jagged with uncertainty,
I stand here, blinking against the glare
of expectation,
but I ask nothing yet.
I only exist.
A pause in the universe’s rhythm,
a seed that forgot its root.

Me

Me is a labyrinth,
Threaded through with whispers
of distant voices,
carving shapes into my soft skin.
I am not singular;
I am the shadow of a child
and the echo of an elder.
I dance with the weight of belonging,
Yet step on the fragile glass of solitude.
Does Me even know its name?
A mirror cracks,
and Me gazes into the fractured selves
it cannot reconcile.

My Mission

My mission, you ask?
It is a song with missing notes,
an orchestra playing in reverse.
It is to chase the color blue,
to tame the roar of invisible storms,
to unravel time,
weave it back into a blanket of stillness.
I will rewrite the script of gravity,
let it pull not just downward
but inward and upward.
My mission is to find what I’ve never lost,
to forget what I cannot name,
to burn brighter than the stars
and quieter than a flame.

You

You are the ripple I did not expect—
an unscripted character in my sprawling monologue.
You are not the question nor the answer
but the ellipsis in between.
You dissolve the edges of my arrogance,
replace them with questions that taste of honey
and sting of nettles.
Are you the mirror or the void?
The guest or the ghost?
You hold the silence of a thousand storms,
and still, I lean toward your quiet gravity.

We Both

We both are threads unraveling from opposite ends,
meeting in the middle of a tapestry too vast to see.
Your hands and mine—
fumbling architects of a home
we cannot describe.
We are moths chasing the same flame,
different angles,
same burn.
We are the parentheses enclosing a single word,
a word no one dares to speak aloud.
Together, we write and erase,
build and unbuild,
one shared breath at a time.

We

We are the first storm after a drought,
the chaos before a new harmony.
We are galaxies colliding,
planets spinning off-course,
stars reborn from the debris.
We do not move forward;
we spiral,
dizzy but determined,
caught between the known
and the unknowable.
We hold hands and let go,
and hold again,
bridging infinite distances
with the fragile thread of trust.

My Mission (Again)

Now, my mission unfolds differently—
it is no longer singular,
but symphonic.
It is the yearning of the sea
for the shore,
the ache of roots
for sunlight.
It is not to conquer,
but to surrender;
not to find,
but to create.
My mission is ours—
a shared fragment of eternity,
a question we will never fully answer,
but will forever explore.

#Poetry #SelfDiscovery #ExistentialReflection #Mindfulness #CreativeJourney #InnerTransformation #PoetryOfPurpose