Re-Discovery

I made a stand for poetry.

Solemnly swore to dedicate myself to it.
Little by little. Day by day.


To read it.
To learn how to plunge beneath its surface,
And be lured into it’s honest yet mysterious depths.


And how to write it.

It quickly captivated me.
It shone out my eyes.
And tingled the hairs on my arms.
It made the sun seem more radiant.
And the moon seem more magical.


Then all at once it disappeared.
Like it wanted to be rid of me.
But it was I.
I who had stopped letting it pour over me.
And it drifted away before I knew it was gone.

It has been said
That absence makes the heart fonder.
Now is the time for my re-discovery
Of life, delight, and captivation.

Oh, joy of poetry, return to me!

Ask Me

Some time when the river is ice ask me
Mistakes I have made. Ask me whether
What I have done is my life. Others
Have come in their slow way into
My thought, and some have tried to help
Or to hurt: ask me what difference
Their strongest love or hate has made.
I will listen to what you say.
You and I can turn and look
At the silent river and wait. We know
The current is there, hidden; and there
Are comings and goings from miles away
That hold the stillness exactly before us.
What the river says, that is what I say.

—William Stafford

Beyond All Splendor

It's 2:19am.

It’s sixty degrees with just a hint of a breeze. And all I can smell is spring, and LIFE, as I sit here in my tattered tee on my fifth floor windowsill, looking out to survey my glorious view from atop this mountain.
The only things I hear are the birds chirping, and I have reasoned that they must just be as happy as me—simply ecstatic to be alive.
I am so thankful to be here. To witness such beauty and be overcome by all the rich blessings I have been given.
From the twinkling lights of the life below my city on a hill, to the splendor of this rich night sky, to the vastness of the land set before me, to the feelings that overwhelm me—I am SO small.
Oh God, let me never forget how marvelous you are. How mighty, how merciful, and how loving. You are rich beyond all splendor.

Visits to Tower Hill

Went to visit my grandma today because I’m leaving tomorrow to go back to school. Caught her just before dinner. She was already sitting in the dining room with two friends. But I went in to sit and talk with her for a few minutes before I had to go home.

Every time I see her in the dining room she always sits next to the same two women. Or at least so it seems. And this woman on her right always looks horribly sad and like something is very wrong. Like she wants to get out. Like something is deeply troubling her. I’m not sure of the reason she’s in the nursing home. But her eyes always hold this intensely deep and desperate look. It’s really concerning to me. To almost an overwhelming degree. And today she reached across the table to me and in this hoarse whisper just said “Can you help me?”
Over and over and over. Faster and faster.

And I tried to calm her down and just said, “Of course! What do you need help with?” And then she looked down and kept breathing reallly heavily and then said, with total desperation. “I…I…I don’t know. I don’t know.”

And I think what gets me the most is that everytime I’m there and I see her, she just sits and watches and listens to me interact with my grandma. And she doesn’t like to talk. Just watches.
And for some reason I get this feeling something huge has happened in her past. Something really distressing. And she sees something in my grandma that’s she’s never had. And I don’t think it’s jealousy, it’s just this sad desperation to obtain whatever it is that makes my grandma so joyful and content before her life is over.

It troubled me so tremendously. It was SO utterly sad. And it really frightened me. So much so that I honestly wondered if I’d ever have the emotional/mental stamina to work in a nursing home…