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When Your Hands Are Empty #poemofhope #faithpoetry #spokenwordpoetry

There will be a season when you have done all you know to do and still, nothing. No answer at the door. No sudden change. No sign in the sky telling you that tomorrow will be kinder. Just you, your unanswered prayer, and the strange silence that makes you question whether God is still listening. He is. Do not mistake silence for absence. Some of God's deepest work happens without making a sound. Roots grow in darkness. Healing happens beneath skin. Morning begins long before the window knows there is light. And somewhere beyond what you can see, your life is being moved by hands you cannot follow. So do not abandon your faith because you cannot trace God's footsteps. You were never promised a clear view. You were given enough light for the next step. Take it. Even if your knees shake. Even if your heart has questions your mouth is afraid to ask. Take it. Faith is not a life without uncertainty. It is waking up with uncertainty beside you and refusing to let it choose your direc...
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I was Born for More #spokenwordpoetry #creativewriting #poetrydaily

I was born for more, 
not to shrink into corners of silence,
not to fade beneath the weight of ordinary days,
not to exist as something half-lit,
In a world asking for brilliance.

There is something in me
that refuses to settle,
something restless and awake
even when I try to rest.

I was born for more
than quiet hesitation,
more than doubting my own hands
as if they were not built
to create, to shape, to move.

Inside me lives a voice
that does not whisper smallness,
It calls for expansion,
for color,
for meaning that spills beyond me
into everything I touch.

I was born for more
than watching life pass by
like a distant window I never open.
I was meant to open it,
to step through it,
to let the world feel my presence
without apology.

There is skill in me,
not waiting to be discovered,
but waiting to be unleashed.
Like rivers held too long in stone,
like fire kept too long in still air.

I was born for creation,
for shaping what did not exist before me,
for turning thoughts into form,
and silence into expression
that breathes on its own.

And when I give,
it is not empty giving.
It is overflowing.
It is a part of me
that understands I was never meant
to keep everything inside.

I was born for more
than myself alone.

I was born to lift others
without losing my own light,
to remind them
that something greater
also lives within them.

There is a purpose in me
that does not sleep,
even when I doubt it,
even when the world feels heavy
and unfamiliar.

It waits patiently
beneath every hesitation,
beneath every fear
that tries to make me smaller
than I was created to be.

But I was not born for smallness.

I was born for impact,
quiet or loud,
seen or unseen,
But always real.

And even when I forget,
even when I drift,
something in me remembers:

I was born for more
than surviving days.
I was born to shape them.

I was born to create,
to inspire,
to rise,
and to remind the world
That light does not ask permission
before it shines.


© 2026 Gloria Penelope

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