“I do not miss childhood, but I do miss the way I took pleasure in small things, even as greater things crumbled. I could not control the world I was in, could not walk away from the things or people or moments that hurt, but I took joy in the things that made me happy.”
– Neil Gaiman, The Ocean at the End of the Lane
Author: Christina's Words
“The darkness around us is deep.” ~ William Stafford
“Behind the Thunder” by Mark Nepo
I keep looking for one more teacher,
only to find that fish learn from water
and birds learn from sky.
If you want to learn about the sea,
it helps to be at sea.
If you want to learn about compassion,
it helps to be in love.
If you want to learn about healing,
it helps to know of suffering.
The strong live in the storm
without worshipping the storm.
– Mark Nepo, Reduced to Joy
“Later in Life” by Jorie Graham
I step out and suddenly notice this.
Summer arrives, has arrived, is arriving.
Birds grow less than leaves although they cheep, dip, arc, a call across the tall fence from an invisible neighbor to his child is heard right down to the secret mood and the child also hears.
One hears in the silence that follows the great desire for approval and love which summer holds aloft, all damp leeched from it like a thing floating out on a frail but perfect twig end.
Light seeming to darken in it yet glow.
Please, it says, but not with the eager and need of spring.
Come what may, says summer, smack in the middle I will stand and breathe, the future is a super fluidity I do not taste, no, there is no numbering here, it is a gorgeous swelling, no emotion, as in this love is no emotions, no, also no memory. We have it all now and all there ever was is us now.
– from Jorie Graham’s, “Later In Life”
via Whiskey River
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* Graham’s full poem, “Later in Life” found on The New Yorker:
“How to Love Your Introvert” by Kevin Yang
“There will be many times when you will be uncomfortable in my silence unsure of how I am feeling. Understand that just because I don’t wear my heart on my sleeve for everyone to see does not mean it beats any softer than yours. Do not confuse the stillness of lips with rhythm of apathy. Do not confuse the sound of words rounding off 80 beats per minute with the music of an actual conversation just because I cannot commit the act of small talk does not mean I don’t have huge things to say. Just because I find peace within myself does not mean that I could ever stop wanting to love so hard.”
from “How to Love Your Introvert” by Kevin Yang
“If I Left You A Voicemail This Would Be It” by Shinji Moon
I almost miss the sound of your voice but know that the rain
outside my window will suffice for tonight.
I’m not drunk yet, but we haven’t spoken in months now
and I wanted to tell you that someone threw a bouquet of roses
in the trash bin on the corner of my street, and I wanted to cry
because, because —
well,
you know exactly why.
And, I guess I’m calling because only you understand
how that would break my heart.
I’m running out of things to say. My gas is running on empty.
I’ve stopped stealing pages out of poetry books, but last week I pocketed a thesaurus
and looked for synonyms for you but could only find rain and more rain
and a thunderstorm that sounded like glass, like crystal, like an orchestra.
I wanted to tell you that I’m not afraid of being moved anymore;
Not afraid of this heart packing up its things and flying transcontinental
with only a wool coat and a pocket with a folded-up address inside.
I’ve saved up enough money to disappear.
I know you never thought the day would come.
Do you remember when we said goodbye and promised that
it was only for then? It’s been years since I last saw you, years
since we last have spoken.
Sometimes, it gets quiet enough that I can hear the cicadas rubbing their thighs
against each other’s.
I’ve forgotten almost everything about you already, except that
your skin was soft, like the belly of a peach, and
how you would laugh,
making fun of me for the way I pronounced almonds
like I was falling in love
with language.
“If I Left You a Voicemail This Would Be It” by Shinji Moon, from The Anatomy of Being
Words ... for the Time Being 