Image credit: JB Verances // Model: Erin Fong
When I endured those unfortunate years of teenage angst (or rather, when they endured me), it was stanzas that would stand by my side. Poetry is not the first friend I think to call, but sometimes I get so taken by thought or emotion, I can’t help but pick up my pen again.
As I write from this coffeeshop now, I notice that my poetry parallels my thought process. Run-on sentences transition to rhyme. Thoughts, once scattered, settle. Not sure if there’s an actual term or poet who writes like this but… here I am, take a big whiff!
The Art of Being
How exquisite, how diverse humanity truly is.
A coffee shop in the place I call home,
a sea of faces find their host.
But in their midst, I recognize not a one.
Each person, each measure of glory manifesting a new face of God.
Beauty and character seep
from every ounce of their being—
her polished angled bob holding tight to her taught jaw.
Her tousled chocolate waves every day kissed by the sun,
cascading down a sweater so purple, fields of iris would stop to notice.
You are beauty. You are grace.
The deliberate attention to detail, each morning that you place,
to just the right curl;
just the right hue;
just the right fit,
just to be YOU:
There is an art to your being
and my dear, it is not overlooked.
So please, love, keep on being.
From every cranny.