O, Poem-maker

Poem-builder,
can you build a poem
of bricks of uninspiring numbness

Poem-maker,
can you make a poem
out of wallowing in silence
from the sadness
that arose from nothing?
Can you make a poem
out of the inability to get out of bed
on the weekends,
of only possessing motivation
when it is for others?

Poem-writer,
can you write a poem
about how heartbreak lingers
and never truly heals?
Can you write a poem
of lessons that should have been learned long ago
yet keep being taught
without being absorbed?

Poem-builder,
can you build a poem
of bricks of uninspiring numbness
that floods and muffles and mutes
every experience?
Can you build a poem
of concrete
with its dark, gray hue
and brutalistic shapes and lines?

Because I feel guilty
when I write these things
and don’t offer a solution,
a termination of the morose feeling
that pervades many of my waking moments.

Perhaps there’s a beauty in these moments, too,
and even if there isn’t,
they still need to be spoken.

I’m just not sure
if I’m the right one
to do the speaking.


Original photo by Alex Buretz from Pexels

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Child, You Deserve the World

I hope you find a home that is not contingent on location,
but rather buried deep within yourself

Child,
I hope that you keep that wonder,
that insatiable desire to know all there is to know
which will guide you to seek knowledge and answers even after you are grown.
I hope that you will have the tools to solve the problems you confront
and the courage to ask for help when those tools are not enough.
I hope you find a home that is not contingent on location,
but rather buried deep within yourself
so that wherever you go,
you are surrounded by peace and calm and clarity
because, child, you deserve the world,
and you deserve to have a home in it.

Child,
I hope you learn to love to give with all your heart
but also learn to love to receive without guilt or shame.
I hope you choose to persevere,
even when the going gets tough
because doors open and shut, and windows open and shut,
and sometimes, it can feel like all the doors are closed
and, I’ll be honest with you, sometimes they are,
but that never means that they will be closed forever.
I hope you laugh and dance and sing as if nobody’s watching.
They are watching, but your vivacity and felicity will be sure to brighten their day
and your own
because, child, you deserve the world,
and you deserve one full of vibrancy.

Child,
I hope the world is ready for you in all of your glory
and all of your you-ness,
and if, for some reason, it is not,
I hope you fight to make it so
for those who follow after you,
and, just as importantly, for yourself
because, child, you deserve the world
and a great and wide and accepting one at that.



Image by Silvio Zimmermann from Pixabay

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