In you, I see something
It reminds me of peace.
Hands remain tangled,
After we’ve fallen asleep.

Forlorn figures fade
Faithlessly away.
And my faithful frettings
Found moorings in faraway fields today.

In you, I feel something
It reminds me of warmth.
If ever you need flour,
Please knock at my door.

Ancient ancillary angels
Are visiting me now.
And my divine daydreams
Discover a home in delightful dallying about.

In you, I find something.
It reminds me of love.
Mayhaps it’s too hackneyed
But it feels blessed; from above.

When I grow old, I shall put seven cents in my pocket and give it to strangers.

I shall embark upon a journey and peddle soft, warm words that fill empty bellies and soothe tattered psyches.

I shall set up a travelling stand where the only currency we accept is memories, used and reused and sold bottled up fresh in old cans of soda.

I shall become known and unknown, even unknowable as I weave my way through threadbare mountains and ribboning streams and sing gentle songs with whatever words you’d like to hear.

I shall collect river rocks, smoothed with time and ancient expressions which I will attempt, futilely, to divine.

I shall carry all of my compliments in the stitches of my shawl and discard the insults on the ground, crumpled bits of refuse decaying in my wake, then pull my garment ever tighter such that the cruel litter may not reach me at all.

When I grow old, I shall find seven cents in my pocket given to me by a stranger.

do you remember the music?
cavernous halls swallowing us whole
i watched as the dancers climbed to the heights
the peaks, the sorrows of man which dwelt among us.

do you remember the feeling?
sonorous sensations surrounding us completely
i heard as the echoing sentiments sang so sweetly
the swells, the careful connections forged between us.

do you remember the music?
it is raging, the river, it is rising and we are together
we are together, we cannot be separated and here we are
sharing this moment sharing this time feverishly preparing
crescendoing into glorious, exalting infinity!

and now it is over.

but do you remember the music?

Nineteen revels at nineteen!
First, how can I be so old?
Second, how can I be so young?
And how can I possibly navigate the world?
Fourth, what if my inside doesn't match my outside?
Fifth, how do I ask for wisdom?
Sixth, not a question, but an enunciation: I am beautiful!
But what if I'm not beautiful?
Eighth, remember when I was eight?
Ninth, I'm not sure I do. But maybe I do.
Tenth, the next decade is coming for me soon!
Eleventh, I rather dread it.
And how do I handle loss?
Thirteenth, is thirteen unlucky?
Fourteenth, it doesn't seem so.
Fifteenth, I am the same distance from fifteen as I am from twenty-three.
Sixteenth, I've only been driving for three years.
Seventeenth, I've only been driving for three years?
But I feel so capable!
Nineteenth subsection a. the world is so large, so unknowable, and that is scary.
Nineteenth subsection b. I will revel in it.

do you remember when i asked if i could kiss you?
it felt like the time i stood on that rocky ledge and couldn’t jump into the water below because it seemed so high.

do you remember when i told you i like you?
it felt like the first time i rode that roller coaster and made it over the biggest hill (without throwing up, too!)

do you remember when i asked you to lunch?
it felt like the time i took a deep breath and got in that rickety old plane just to jump out of it and soar through the clouds.

do you remember?

i do.

i feel nothing, but in the best way.

the absence of artificial asinine archaic and endlessly echoing internal emotions.

all is well here, all is well here.

i feel nothing; no worry.

this peaceful presence propagating powerful pleasantries within a quiet mind.

all is well here, all is well here.

i feel nothing; no longing.

the first fantastical hiatus from forceful fateful phantoms gripping at the heart.

i feel nothing; no anger.

this incredible introspective break with inimical irate iterations intruding upon this space.

all is well here, all is well here.

i feel nothing, but in the best way.

O Lord, my God
Would you consecrate my lungs such that the air I breathe be holy?
O Lord, my Savior
May each shuddering breath be yours; Divine.

O Lord, my God
Would you consecrate my throat such that the water I drink be wine?
O Lord, my Protector
May each desperate swallow be yours; Heaven.

O Lord, my God
Would you consecrate my palms such that the ones I touch be angels?
O Lord, my Guide
May each careful stroke be yours; Blessed.

O Lord, my God
Would you consecrate my soul such that my deeds be pure?
O Lord, my Shepherd
May each deliberate act be yours; Transcendent.

I sit at the base of a tree, and it is summer.

Here is gold streaming through the leaves, dappling the ground with sunspots.

I look past my boots into a pasture full of souls.

Here are Aesop's Fables by my side, drawing familiar faces close... or pushing them far.

I feel the warmth of this heaven before me.

Here are joys and tears and adventures both big and small.

I hear the sound of a river tangling and untangling itself among rocks and sediment.

Here is James Taylor reminding us that this old world must still be spinning 'round.

I know you are here with me, even though I do not know you well, I have not met you yet, and you are my best friend.

Here is my past and present and future, and I feel our first kiss and the secrets you kept safe and the night we lay on the rocks under the stars and the only time I remember you holding my hand and how loudly we sang in the car.

I will live here, I will die here.

Here is my happy place.

Her hands are winter.
Frosted fingers interlaced above frozen windowsills staring out into the great unknown and that big blank canvas of snow that is our future, us, we.

Her eyes are spring.
Bright blue alight with life and happiness and rebirth, a freckle on the side like a cloud in the clear blue sky, like the first blossoms on the branches of the weeping cherry trees, arms stretching into forever and ever, amen.

Her laugh is summer.
The peals of schoolbells rung for the last time, the joy of escape and endless sunshine and golden days filled with potential, rolling through hills that continue on and on, never ending like the constant whispers of “I love you most.”

Her body is autumn.
Beautiful like the palette of gold, orange, and red leaves and the sunspots shining on the cool ground and the crisp scent of a new season turning itself over into something magical, cooking and baking and cinnamon and wondering when exactly our tomorrow will begin.

She is a nature girl.
The seasons spread over her body like tattoos, the warmth of the sun is enclosed in her soul and sometimes she protects herself with the ice of winter but when you learn to peel back the snow’s frosty bite you discover you have stepped out into the crisp autumn air and once again she is here, the sun of her love warming your back and your upturned face looking into hers although it’s bright but you don’t have to squint because it isn’t harsh but comforting, oh so comforting because she is love and you are love and suddenly once again it’s summer.

To whomever loves her next-

Make sure you remember to leave out some Arizona tea.

Take her on downtown dates and ask her just why she loves the city lights so much.

Picnic under the stars and remind her that the abyss isn’t as lonely as it seems.

Listen to music far too loud and have dance parties with her when she’s sad.

Remember that she likes to go on walks when she’s upset but she also likes when you run your fingers through her hair.

Offer her all of your shirts; she’ll take each one and wear it to think of you... or because it’s cute.

Always bear in mind that her heart is far more delicate than she makes it seem and you should care for it well.

Know that to you, she’ll speak soft words and laugh loudly and you must cherish every phrase as gospel for she is everything.

Buy her mochi every now and again, preferably red velvet or blood orange and make sure you don’t forget how much she loves when you rub her back.

Ask her if she’s alright often, for she hides her pain behind a veil of bubbly effervescence that seems impermeable until you remember her delicate heart.

Hold her at every chance, and make sure not to knot her hair when you play with it because she won’t let you play with her hair if you tangle it.

Cause her to smile constantly, for it is like the sun and the moon and the stars and the cosmos and all of your favorite things combined into one glorious human being who is happy because of you.

And don’t forget the Arizona tea.

I am powerful.
For I have the mountains in my veins
Older than the trees
Protecting me from all that comes my way.

I am beautiful.
For I have the air in my lungs
Higher than the sky
Clearing away all that clouds my mind.

I am wise.
For I have the stories in my mind
Louder than the opposition
Painting a picture of all that will guide me.

I am driven.
For I have the warriors in my footsteps
Faster than the rivers
Pushing me to keep moving forward.

I am a North Carolina girl.
For I have traditions in my heart
Love in my soul
And a fire in my eyes

I am a North Carolina girl.