A Poem Resides in Every Moment

Something shifted when I began to think this way. It happened just this week after a trip to the grocery store. There is goodness in the ordinary, as it often leads to the extraordinary if you will it to. That day at the grocery store, I wanted to feel better, so I changed my perspective.

For about a month now, I have been riding the waves of emotion that often sweep through many of our lives at a time of great change or transition from one chapter to the next. There is something healing about the way change kicks up the dust, reminds us of our past, of hurts still recovering, and urges us onward to the unknown. It’s also freaking terrifying. I have never not been afraid of a great leap. But life is about taking them anyways, trusting that you have all that you could ever need inside of you. The brave build the path as they walk along it.

Walking to my car in the store parking lot beneath a blushing evening sky, I began to imagine poems about my low points, my high points, my in-between points, my daily life: one moment at a time. The beauty, I realized, is that I am the poet. I choose what to honor, and I choose to honor all of it: the sadness I feel about leaving home, the fear of death, the anxiety about the unknown, the excitement of endless possibilities, the familial wounds not yet healed, the hope to fall in love. Suddenly, life feels rich, vibrant, deep, worthy. 

Looking at moments through a poet’s eyes allows me to see what’s really important: the small details, the glimpses of magic, the kindness given and received, the orange and black caterpillar inching along beside me on my morning walk, the feeling of stillness after crying. A poet takes experiences and feelings and weaves them into a tribute. How beautiful it is to look at the hurt, the vulnerability, the thrill, the love in our lives and see all of them as deserving of a tribute.

Life doesn’t need to be perfect to be loved. It just needs your attention. Pay attention to the details and you will begin to see that there is a poem in every moment. You might even find that they add up to a mysterious, gorgeous painting.



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