Imagine how colorless, how stripped
of flavor life would be if we all
showed up perfect. What would perfect
even look like? Starched white blouses
pleated black slacks, never a weed
or a tangle, sentences
written to bland, cleaned up
perfection, on the very first draft
perfection, on the very first draft
No - thank you.
This idea
of perfection makes me nervous
makes me think it's not
okay for me to fall. Your willingness
to stand up dripping, deep in the center
of the storm, gives me permission
to stand up again
of the storm, gives me permission
to stand up again
and again - no matter how deep
the puddle. What I want is
the puddle. What I want is
for us to lean into each other
listening
listening
while our heart bleeds
for the thousandth time - before
we have a chance to clean up
or get rid of. I want to know what spilled
out in that middle of the night draft
how many times you declared it bad
before you could see the good in it - before
you could see the God
in it
you could see the God
in it
Please - don't say the right thing
say what's true - I don't want
your manners, I want you
in full, stormy, vibrant, mismatched
wrinkled, alive color. Before
you brush your hair or rub sleep
from your tired eyes
before you catch
your breath. I want to know
what it is you keep hidden
tight in a drawer - what it is
you keep almost
saying
but don't. Come
let us walk barefoot
let us walk barefoot
through weeds, through
thick layers of tired
let's show up late and frazzled, let's
say the wrong thing, let us confess
that sometimes we have no idea
where to look or how
that sometimes we have no idea
where to look or how
to find each other or God
or ourselves
or ourselves
in any of it
let's rest like trees, leaning
and listening into each other
until the hard
until the hard
of our bark softens
until
there is nothing
to find - only everything
to be
*Photographer unknown
Julia, thank you for this poem, a wonderful meditation on the right to be fail, the right to be imperfect, and to be. I love the words "don't say the right thing say what's true" and "let's show up late and frazzled." From me to you as many uncountable thanks as there are branches emerging from this tree. <3
ReplyDeleteGarrett, you and your words bless me so. Thank you for taking the time to connect. I am forever grateful for you.
Delete“until/there is nothing/to find - only everything/to be.” … These words echo in my mind long after I finish reading your incredible poem, Julia. Thank you for your words, for your reminder that we were not put on this earth to be perfect. We stumble and we fall; we are messy and chaotic. There are an infinite number of colors passing through us, feelings and emotions that aren’t made for the confines of perfection. All too often, we try so hard to be more that we stop giving ourselves permission to just be. It’s so easy to forget that we are infinitely worthy of love exactly as we are. We miss so much in the strive for perfection.
ReplyDeleteThank you for this poem, this reminder, this love, Julia.
"There are an infinite number of colors passing through us, feelings and emotions that aren’t made for the confines of perfection."
DeleteOh Jenna, this is so beautifully, perfectly (smile) said. "We are infinitely worthy of love exactly as we are." Yes, yes, yes.
Thank you so very much for gifting me with beautiful you today.
If I could even write half as good as this, I'd feel brilliant
ReplyDeleteLove coming back here and reading your poems <3
Karin, you are a beautiful woman. I hope you never underestimate the writer you are, the person you are. Sending you so much love to you today.
ReplyDelete