Tag: courage

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The Rusty Bridge

PHOTO PROMPT © Sandra Crook

The Rusty Bridge

Bridges always make me think of Rusty. 

He sent letters til I was 10, telling of his adventures.  I kept a list back then, updating it every time he wrote. When I turned 18, I would follow in his footsteps. Yellowstone Natural Bridge was the last place he mentioned before we got the life-shattering call. 

I ended my list, put it in a tin can deep in my closet, and decided to take a safe path instead. 

Yesterday, I found the list.

“I lost my life in a different way, Big Brother,” I moaned.

This evening, I bought a backpack.

Many thanks to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for hosting Friday Fictioneers! One photo, 100 words… Why not join us?

Has anyone else been struggling with posting comments lately? Not that you’ll be able to answer if you are :). I’m having the worst luck getting comments to take…

Posted on in poetry

To the One Who Didn’t Realize What She was Getting Into

The adventure you’ve chosen
Is a hard one—
Others have lied;
I will not.
The things you encounter
Will paralyze.
You’ll be clueless
Where to go,
How to act,
Which way is up.
You’ll feel stuck
Under water
Fighting your way
For breath,
But you won’t know
Which direction
Leads to air
And which to sludge.
You’ll chose
And struggle
And hope.
Things will be
Excruciating,
Unfair.
They’ll chase you
To a panic.
You’ll finally see
A flicker of something
—sunlight—
And fight forward.
You’ll just make it
To the surface
Where you’ll breathe,
Deeply
—folded in brightness—
Just where you need to be.

Posted on in poetry

To the One Who Needed Silence

Don’t be afraid to voice it.
—Yes, the irony is there.
You try to model it instead,
But when you craft a silence bubble,
They rush in with words,
And cram every cranny.
The place looks different in their eyes
—Awkward, lazy, wasted space—
Not the serene spot
You strove to shape.

Still, don’t be afraid to voice it.
There are so many things
About yourself you don’t know
But this one thing you do:
You need wild stretches of wordlessness—
Without assignment
Without expectations—
Pausing deadlines and headlines,
Cutting away dead branches,
Taking chances that you may be worthwhile.

You’re afraid to need anything
Afraid to let someone know when you do
Because vulnerability can be abused.
You don’t want to cast a shadow,
To be any color but clear,
To be more than a whisper.
Secretly, you want to be invisible
Because it would let you be
Free to listen to the stream run
And dance among the trees.

But you can’t want that, not really,
They say. We gave you a book
About how to squeeze every drop
Of time out of each day
Like a lemon on a juicer
But you didn’t study it.
Shame on me, you think,
And carry the book, for years and years,
Finally throwing it away, unread.
Then life begins.

With a breath of silence.

Angela Adams

Posted on in poetry

To the One Who Listened to Lies

They’ve been part of your life since you got here;
So, of course you have listened to them.
They may have been with you before you were born;
How could you not hear what they said?

Some of your earliest notions
Were wrapped in deceit and dread
Since you couldn’t distinguish the difference—
What was truth out of all that was said.

If someone had silenced those demons
Your mind might have learned they were false
But the truth and the lies intermingled,
And sang a bewildering song.

But who can silence silence?
They don’t hear what goes on in your mind.
So the lies got free range and they pecked at your brain
Like chickens let loose in the garden.

But the wonderful thing about growing
Is learning and starting to see,
That just because that’s where you started,
An ending place it need not be.

Run hard into battle; don’t fall back.
Stand up when they fire; call them out.
Hold the line. They’re not friends; don’t mistake them.
Lies have only the power you assign.

Posted on in poetry

To the One Who Had to Finish Everything Else First


No one else seems to understand—
They’re going at it the other way
Starting with what they want,
Expecting the other pieces will fall into place.

And often it does—because people like you make it happen.

But in your proud mind it’s set in stone
You can’t follow your dream
Until you’ve earned the right
By setting everything in order first.

And the day doesn’t come—because you’re crippling yourself.

Because there’s always someone else
Who needs your time,
Could use your resources.
And you never have 100% left in your own pocket.

The day will come—because frustrations will build.

And something will click:
You’ll decide to dive in anyway,
Even when the water is rocky and deep.
You’ll learn by leaping.

Finally the day will come—and that will make all the difference.

Posted on in poetry

To the One Who Confused Peacekeeper and Peacemaker

The peaceKEEPER
preserves things as she finds them
And tries not to cause trouble.
Though not the instigator,
The peacekeeper is often part of the problem.
Sometimes she will do anything,
Even the wrong thing, to avoid
Fights, conflicts, fusses, strained feelings in the moment—
Without vision for the longterm impact.
But evil flourishes when people who can stand up, do nothing.

The peaceMAKER
Sees what needs to be and works at it.
She prays for wisdom—but doesn’t always get answers.
She works to reconcile people—and often fails.
She tries to speak truth—even when it scares her.
She recognizes that there are times
When she needs to make waves to make peace.
And she must stand up for what is right, even if it hurts her.
Anyone can love peace, but making peace?
That skill is painful, but worth learning.

Posted on in poetry

The Third Road Diverged

The road has diverged in a crimson wood
And I don’t know which way to choose
Neither one points where I think I should go;
Lost, I stand in the dusk, confused.

The glittering sun is my only gold;
The North Star, my guide and lead.
Not all those who wander are lost, I hear,
Yet many who ramble aren’t free.

But I haven’t the time to ruminate
On what is or what ought to be.
The only real choice is before me:
I will stomp a new path through the trees!

Posted on in poetry

To the Young Woman Who Feels Like An Alien in Bars

You’re feeling the fool now and wishing
Yourself more—like all of the rest.
You want to fit in and be trendy
But you feel something wrong when you’re pressed.

Your waver’s not weakness; it’s wisdom.
Your eyes see the truth: There is more.
If you don’t step away, you’ll be lost, dear
Pulled into a meaningless whirl.

Don’t waste time with self-criticizing,
Supposing it’s you who can’t stand.
Set standards for him and hold to them
Don’t build a foundation on sand.

Your doubting, this time, is not weakness;
It’s knowing this isn’t your stop.
There’s no shame leaving places behind you;
Ignore foolish pressure and hop.

You must be aware: People chatter.
It’s funny that you haven’t met
Those who speak twenty ways in a minute,
Raise opinions like gamblers grow debts

Will you ruin your life with one comment?
Never read deep in those drunken words.
They’re empty and worthless; don’t let them
Beat you to a pulp; hold that sword.

They can talk, but you don’t have to listen.
And you don’t have to trek where they go.
You knew it; you just wouldn’t say it.
Why not? Trust you might truly know.

That sense wasn’t fear; it was vision.
You knew you were in the wrong place.
Dull, pointless and dumb—artificial—
A futureless swamp to evade.

It doesn’t come round all that often,
But you’ve heard that small voice in the past.
You’ve met it while hiking in forests;
That’s the input you want to hold fast.

I hope you will let her grow stronger.
The voice that thinks deeply and far
And who knows she was made for a reason.
Who walks her own path, not the bar.

Posted on in poetry

To the One Struggling to Captain Her Own Ship

Life never is finished.
It’s not a burger flipped.
It’s not an 8 to 5—
Punch in and out.
There always will be more—
Another dish to wash,
Another floor to mop,
Another meal to cook,
Another conversation to have,
Another person who needs the time
(Certainly more than you do).
Another people with
Different thoughts, ideas, whims.
It will always be a tug of war
When you are near strong people
—Fascinating people—
You need to realize
That your vision is valuable too.
Don’t get trampled
Or pushed off the edge.

Someone else will always say
You’re doing the wrong thing.
You could do it differently—better!
People will always imply that
Their needs are more important now—
They’ll only take a few minutes.
But minutes turn to hours
Turn to days and months.
The years spin by, faster and faster.
Soon they’re swimming out of control
And you’re dizzy with panic—
Pushing and squeezing,
Throbbing—thunk, thunk, thunk—
Inside your skull.
You can’t turn time back,
But you can stop the pattern—
Right now.
You can stop and say:
I need time.
I need a fair share.
I need to step back
And focus on this for now.
I’ve focused on you;
I’m sure you’ll understand.

Many won’t see the importance,
Or comprehend
Why you want this route.
They may try to sink your ship
Or nudge you towards
A different course—
More interesting,
More profitable—
More closely connected to their own success.
They have it all planned out,
And explain it all
In most eloquent words
Or stab you with a
Fine!-Dig-Your-Own-Grave eye roll
Just as you’re feeling unsure of yourself
And you’ll feel pressure to agree,
To help for a while,
It might even be welcome
To have guidance—
Someone else to take the wheel
Just for a stretch—
But are you prepared for the exchange?
Life will be easier,
But mean less.
You’ll end up somewhere,
But not on your map.
That can be good,
But ultimately, it’s your choice.
When you know where you need to go,
Be mindful as you buy your ticket.