If Nothing Comes

I am not going to pretend like writing has ever been easy. There must be infinite blogs, books, and influencers all telling you their secrets to writing. It’s all for naught, at least for me. The bleaker the world gets, the harder it is to find beauty, the harder it becomes to write.

If Nothing Comes

If nothing comes,
remember the mundane
How sacred it is, to hold a lover's hand
How seeds grow at their own pace
How violence happens everyday
How the earth spins, and the sun rises and fall
How one day, someone's last breath will be used to curse their enemies
And what is death when it happens at every moment
And so does life, as it continues to create new and beautiful living things
Without a doubt of a new day
To really feel that tomorrow will come
Time will do its thing,
and the pull of gravity
will continue to weigh down faces, bodies, trees, fish,
even corpses.

If nothing comes,
remember all that is holy
The alchemy that is cooking
A promise that is not broken
Love poems no one will ever read
How sweat and spit mix with anothers’ to make honey
A touch that sends you to the edge of the universe

If nothing comes,
remember that prestige is the moment a magician reveals their magic, and every moment that someone walks in their truth, graced by the gods, revealing the beauty that lets others grow, the moment that is revealed, of true magic

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