Letters to You, Poem, Poetry

For My Pen, Running Low

So my pen’s running low
on its lively blood’s flow
and I wonder to where
its spirit may go

Has it had a good life
expressing our thought?
Is it happy with all of the
stories we’ve wrought?

I thank you, my friend;
may we see us again
in a land where
the writer’s on par
with the pen.

Letters to You

Night Swimming

I wrote this when feeling low, and then, not wanting to make any reader feel low, chose to keep it to myself.

Well, the point at the time was for me to reach out and tell somebody else that I might know where they’re coming from – if they happened to be coming from a low place too. I took the gift I had tried to give them, and wrapped it up and put it back in the closet, thinking it unwise or unworthy.

I’m sorry I did that, now. I’m not feeling quite so low as I did then, but that’s the thing about things like depression, and anxiety, and uncertainty about being a human on this planet, at this time in history: you have your better days and you have your less-better ones. It’s hard to know sometimes who the real person is, doing the reaching out.

I wanted you to have this once, and I think I should just honour that, for whatever it might be worth.

For the Tired of Treading

I have depression, let me me plain. And also, anxiety. And maybe existential angst of some kind too, just for good measure. I feel poorly about myself, as a person, right now. I feel a bit hollow.

That isn’t to say I exist without hope for the world – or that I don’t see the great beauty in nature, and in others. I am even now and then reminded that I am one of those beautiful things too.

All of these moments of realization are blessings… but the hollowness and the nagging doubts still come, now and then. They seem worse when the daylight goes.

I feel I have nothing to say to anybody right now that might move them to smile, when I am having a hard time doing it myself. Making somebody else’s day better would give my bad day a purpose. I would be fine with that.

Who out there though would want to know that I am here, feeling alone too, and feeling so lost? I am tired and adrift – I can’t be a rock for somebody else, can I?

But I wanted you to know something anyhow, and so I wrote this.

I am not quitting, though I often put things off to the very point of quitting. I love what there is to love in this world, far too much to want to give up early. I have a journey, I know this sometimes-sadness is a part of it as well. I have faith in something bigger than this current ache in my chest.

I want you to have faith in something bigger too. We may feel sometimes as though we’re drowning, but we are feeling that way together. We’re not alone, at all. We are always together in this.

Something is changing in the world, and in us. All these shadows are there, only because there is a strong light to cast them.

We are not drowning, you and I. We are learning to tread water.

Don’t stop treading water – don’t you dare. I am here too, kicking away, looking silly, and never losing hope.

Soon, we will learn to swim again, as we once did. Then we will fly. You’ll see. We will.

It’s hard, I know. It’s very dark sometimes too… I see it. But I have seen a great light as well: it’s there, just above the clouds that seem so thick. Up above those, there is only light. It will break through for you, when this darkness passes.

Maybe you can remember that light, from another time, when things were easier, or happier? Recall what that looks like. Imagine it if you need to – you will remember it, if not now, then tomorrow, or after tomorrow… but you will.

Know that your heart felt at peace once, even if it is hard to feel that way right now.

Waves are never flat and still – and this life is a vast ocean, with great ups and downs. You must kick and kick and keep that beautiful face above the waves. Breathe in, breathe in. You will find that light again.

You will. You will. You are swimming now.

I know it’s hard. I know it is. You are a strong swimmer though. Just look at you now. Your eyes are open and you’re there, looking up for that light. Gritting your teeth at times – wiping back tears when they come, which they always do, for every one of us. Every single one. You are not alone in wanting to weep at times. But your heart is beating – you have a strong heart.

The light is waiting for you – It knows you’re there, even if you can’t remember it this moment. The sun is coming around again, for you. It will warm your face and shoulders and heart and bones, when you least expect it. You will reach dry land. You will see a better day. You will stand, and then you will soar.

I am here, like you. Just close your eyes, and breathe deep… float on your back with the stars above you – we can feel each other being on this great ocean of good souls, all together. We are carried as one, not alone – and we will be well. Breathe deep. See the stars. Float, dream, feel the rest of us there too, in our own worlds, but all together in this one as well. We are here too: here with you.

You are not alone – we are here together.

Believe that you are loved.

You are loved.