Embroidery of Self - A Poem of Identity

 

Embroidery of Self

I dreamed a dream,
And then I woke,
And lived the day
Before I spoke.

No other heard what I had to say,
For I said it to myself alone.
That dream had surfaced a truth—
A seed, a vow, a quiet tone.

I held it fast, I did not share,
For some dreams are not meant to be known.
They’re worn like coats in colder air,
To shield the self, the self alone.

Sewn by myself with careful hand,
Each thread a truth I dared to see.
A vow not made to meet demand,
But stitched into identity.

Words embroidered in the soul,
Or core, or self-imagined frame—
A spell that makes the fractured whole,
A prayer that doesn’t seek acclaim.

Hidden from the eyes of others,
Seen by me, and me alone.
A whispered rite, unlike the others,
A quiet hymn, a private tone.

I say the words as if to atone
For what I’d once believed before—
Before I felt that thread was sewn,
And wore that coat forevermore.

And if I choose to speak of it,
Not the dream, but the words that came,
When I feel fully adorned, the coat fully worn,
I’ll share the words the dream had writ—
The ones that left me newly formed:
“Be who you are—true to yourself, in everything.”


Copyright October 2025 M. W. Van Dyke
All Rights Reserved