Pearls — a poem about looking back with gratitude

It's that time again. NaPoWriMo 2017. One poem a day for the next 30 days. Here we go!

Pearls

If I had been told that I'd spend

my whole life missing you,

I'd still have chosen to fall that hard

and for you to crush my beating heart

because poetry doesn't write itself

and compelling chapters

aren't born of happy times.

Your energy still powers the prologues

and pumps through the pages,

and though there's nothing new to tell,

no other muse feeds me so well.

I have no regrets, regardless of what you think.

I will never apologize for conceptualizing

so many soft pearlescent portraits

of this hard, unforgiving thing.

An eye for beauty is an asset

in times of ugliness and uncertainty.

You made me better.

You made me me.

Where I used to lament the pain

and wonder how life could be so cruel,

I now thank a higher power

for knowing better than I do.

The more wrinkles that crease my face

and that decorate the spines of my books,

the more thankful I become

for the hurt that brought me—

dancing, flailing—

to my knees

and eventually

to these dreams.