anything can be poetry if you're brave enough.
your pain is alive
it has a pulse
a heartbeat
and it needs to be acknowledged
as a living being.
ask what it needs
thank it for being the messenger
you don’t want but know
deep down you need.
nurture it with questions
with listening
and with silence
with not demanding answers
and with patience
and someday it will whisper
the words it has waited
all this time to say.
All of the things people have ever imagined. Dreamed. Rehearsed. Envisioned. Without actually doing them. All the books half written, or unwritten. Songs unsung. Dances never danced. Where do they go?
Is there a home for them somewhere?
That’s what God is to me. A home for our imaginings.
your ability to feel—
that is your super power.
feel so deeply
that it breaks you
yet against all odds
you withstand the pressure
& inexplicably
remain whole.
maybe it’s your job to be broken
so you can teach others
how to be broken
& still shine anyway.
face to face with the sky 