poetry

You Are The Answer. {poetry}

If I could go back

and be with her,

that girl I met

one day who sat

broken in the sun,

gray in heart,

staring out

at an empty Pacific,

I would tell her,

“My dear one,

you do not deserve

to be a question

tripping off his lips,

because the sounds

of your name

are too big and glorious

to wrap his voice

around.”

You deserve

to be the answer

to a question

that was answered

when he met you,

and with a fist-pump,

spoke a resounding,

“Hell Yes!”

Because that is the kind

of reckless commitment

it will take to weather

the path of love.

And besides,

your beautiful name

was not meant

for whispered stutter,

but wild exclamation.

If I could go back

and sit with her

and lend her my glow

to help warm the

cold ache she

carried inside

I would tell her,

“My dear one,

the pain you now feel

is not in vain,

for wise hearts

are forged upon

the wildfires of experience,

and every piece

that feels broken

needed to break

so your heart

could find room to grow.

How else are you

gonna free your heart

if you don’t crack through

the walls that were

holding it back

in the first place?”

If I could go back

and take her hand,

and give her a touch

of reassurance to

help steady her falling faith

in this thing they call love,

I would tell her,

“My dear one,

do not regret your choices

for you were quite brave

to risk your heart

for the sake of love,

and the only foolishness

that exists in having loved

is the foolishness

that exists when we judge

our hearts for doing

what hearts are meant to do.

And now that you have

learned your capacity

for deep, massive love,

you need to learn

to direct that love inwards,

and shine it

on yourself.”

If I could go back,

I’d remind her

that I will always

be there to help her

find her way to shore,

no matter how

lost in the oceans

of life she may be.

Then I would put my arm

around my younger self

and say,

“My dear one,

you are the answer

to a question that is

asked when

you meet you.

So pick up

those broken pieces

and go about the work

of reassembling them,

into something greater

than they were before,

and embrace yourself

with a fist-pump

and a resounding

‘Hell Yes!’

because that is the kind

of reckless commitment

it will take to weather

your path of love.

 And besides,

your beautiful name

is not meant

for whispered stutter,

but wild exclamation.”

 

*****

BethAnneKapanskyBethAnne Kapansky Wright is a Clinical Psychologist finding joy and light from her tiny corner of Anchorage, Alaska. She writes poetry and personal essays and enjoys photography and creating whimsical art. She can often be found on top of the nearest mountain or running through the trails in her beloved woods. She is the author of the poetry chapbook ‘The Art of Becoming’, and is inspired by nature, love, her awesome husband and fur family, and the beautiful journey of becoming more fully human. She can be found blogging tidbits and snippets of poetry and other random thoughts on her website.

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