Words from the past

Reminiscing through my poetry journal today, I found entries from exactly one year ago. I remember that day. Rather, I remember the portion of the day that I spent etching ink into ideas on those pages. It was a beautiful, blue and green spring day, and I was walking across campus, barefoot in the woods. These words were composed in my head and laid to rest on paper at the end of the walk.

What I find important about them is this: I often look back at who I used to be, and I don’t understand what I see, so frustrated with my former self. However, these words were like a message from a wiser self, reminding me of love and grace and freedom. Reminding me who I am. So here is the rough-draft snapshot of a moment in my mind, word-for-word the thoughts that stirred my pen 365 days ago.


Who am I?

that you should heed my words

that you should care that my life is sweet

that my legacy should bless progeny

A place in history should not be desired lightly

Can anyone bear the burden of such fame?

Such a gift rewards greatly

but not in one’s lifetime

and not without all one’s life

Mere celebrity may be purchased

at cost of money or integrity

but to have your departed visage

grace the minds of countless to come

what less is required than your very blood?

I am content to be

to live well

and die well.

I will pass like the flowers

my life a breath-span

and a breath of hope and joy

my death unseen

but life-giving

bearing fruit for generations

through my name be whispered only

by the ancient trees

or not at all.

I shall know my place

and love it

not desecrate it

by calling it lowly or inadequate

though it remember me not when I am gone

though others take my place.

I need not leave a mark

for more strength is needed to restrain

oneself from marking territory.

It is enough to live

and plant seeds

whose life will never be credited to my name.

 ♦  ♦  ♦ 

Here I am

mere clay

imbued with breath

a spirit and earth mingled.

Yet do not call the dirt inferior

for I am no discord;

the wind scorned not to dwell here

so dignity and harmony are my lot.


and exhilarating

Sometimes I disdain to know truth

and my intelligence seems to be

worthy of pride

or my abilities, creative output

they seem great and immortal.

The soul bloats, arrogance its pump

glutting itself with praise undue

But it is good to learn who I am

humbling but comforting

for I must learn to live as a whole being

or rend myself apart and die

my pieces deluded into independance.

 ♦  ♦  ♦ 

An Ode to Keys

Sometimes in the search for something

you lose another thing

often more important.

Kind of funny

how we get caught up in the petty details

and forget the pivotal issues.


Keeping all you need in the same place

seems like a good idea

never worry about running around all the time.

But if you lose one thing,

all is lost.

Now do you think it such a good idea?


Security is overrated

especially when its surety

comes with worry and angst


Clanging like a chain

captured you

but it’s pretty

and for your own good



Sometimes you have to try many answers

to find the right one

There are different answers for

different times

so avoid rigidity.

And even when you have the right one,

it can take a lot of jiggling and thinking  to work

So be persistent

but not overbearing;

answers may be damaged if you

keep trying the wrong one.


Keep life simple.

Too much, and you’ll snap

locked out of what may be the

most important part.

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