The Poem

I think maybe the stars wrote you like a poem

Not the kind that rhymes and has some rigid scheme and is all flowery sentiments

The kind that keeps the reader alive

The kind that turns one way and then the next with those perfect imperfections that fold right around your soul

The kind that makes the reader wish to be covered in the words and completely consumed

I think maybe the stars wrote a messy, twisted, beautiful poem and have been waiting for 32 and a half years for the exact right moment to plop it in front of me

It’s the most thought provoking, hope inspiring, calm inducing, faith restoring, courage building, lovely poem I have ever laid my eyes on

This poem understands pain and deep joy like two sides of the same coin

This poem is comfortable with madness 

This poem holds up a mirror and tells you the truth your eyes haven’t translated yet

This poem wraps you up like it doesn’t want to let you go and yet… it still does when the time comes, without any anxious fear that you won’t return

Of course you’ll return

That poem is THE POEM

Nobody finds THE POEM and just reads the next one like it’s nothing

That poem gets folded in your pocket and plastered on the walls of your heart and recited to anyone who will listen and some who would rather not

I think the stars wrote you like a poem and hand delivered you to me the last Monday of December all unassuming and nonchalant like it wasn’t the gift I’d been longing for my entire life.