I nurture and I create,
I tend what is and what I make.
I pour out love and steady care,
while holding what is not yet laid bare.
I grow and I change,
I transform and I bloom.
For all the versions of me,
I honour — and I make room.
May my hands be guided by gentleness,
my words be a soft place to land.
May I remember: I am human, I am holy —
and I do not have to carry it all alone.
May I be replenished as I give,
rooted as I rise.
And may the love I offer to the world
return to me, multiplied — in grace, in time.
