Steeping on the stove top and smelling of the magic of Christmas 🎄. Skootch over, evil witches with your vile brews!
Ours conjures love and joy and wassail too!
Do Justice. Love Mercy. Walk Humbly.
Oh my friend, in poetry and in suffering:
I do know the grinding glacial pressures that reduce one’s heart to fine dust, the horror of constant ache and the siren song sung by those spectral voices that promise an end to all the hurt and pain and sorrow…
I do know the allure of the thought of killing myself.
I know the feeling of caring more about relationships than those that I long to be in relationship with…silence haunts me, torments me for my mind fills that silence with the worst possibilities…
I know how neglect feels, how it feels when caring is defined in such a way to be at the convenience of others rather than looking at your heart and tailoring efforts for that unique and throbbing spirit.
Why am I saying these things, here on this post? Because:
A. I know you read here
B. Lots of your recent work has had pretty big clues
C. Your comments are disabled
D. I want to tell you that you are worth the world
Here is what I do when I am assaulted by all the stuff inside: I resolve that there is more nobility and honor in bearing up when suffering than there is in laying down and quitting. I hate those voices…I hate those feelings…and I hate it when I am so diminished by neglect and disinterest from people whom I have given my heart to and life for…
…and it seems to me that if I endure, and rise up, I am by far the better for it, just as me.
All great and admirable things in history have an element of overcoming adversity and opposition. All great loves involve loving when not loved in return, giving when only stolen from, and sacrificing gladly for the inherent reward of loving.
If I am mistaken, and all is ducky, then please take this post as a sign of the fondness I have for you as a result of reading your poems.
But if I am right…please consider joining “Team Charissa”…embracing intentional joy even when crying…intentional kindness even when slapped…intentional compassion in the face of neglect.
I am named Charissa Grace…which means grace on grace…so now it is grace, and peace that I wish be unto you.
In tender concern,