Rerooted

Not all roots come from blood.
Some are grown in silence—
in the aftermath of absence,
in the choice to keep going
when the world you came from
never truly held you.

You are allowed to reroute.
You are allowed to outgrow
the soil that first bore you.

This glass of water,
these delicate strands unfurling—
they are proof.

Family can be chosen.
Belonging can be built.
Roots can form in borrowed light
and filtered sun,
on a windowsill,
with no map, no fanfare—
just a will to reach
and a source that says yes.

You can re-root at any time.
You already are.