fb
I Hope You Know

February 6, 2019

By Sarah Spradlin

 

I understand your hesitation, dear one.

Life has fallen so far from perfect.

You’re left shattered,

staring at the broken pieces of what was your normal life,

struggling to find the words to say goodbye to what was good,

and safe,

and predictable,

tired of searching for the silver lining,

tired of looking on the bright side.

Nobody died, so

the world has moved on quickly,

and alone is all you feel

as you wrap yourself in the sorrow

that comes from losing something you can’t name.

Let me invite you to the funeral for my friends,

normal and pretending everything’s okay.

Things are different now,

and it’s okay to cry,

it’s okay to wrestle with the reality you’ve landed in.

I don’t expect things will ever be the same,

but let me stand by you at your funeral for normal,

let me listen as you say goodbye.

Just being there will be enough.

Let me hold your hand as whatever comes next is born.

I’ll leave the panel on the fence at my house loose if you want,

but please come to the front door.

Bring your mess,

bring your loud music and dance moves,

bring all your dreams, but especially the hard-to-reach ones

(we’ve got a step-stool),

bring your kids and your racist grandma,

bring your boyfriends and girlfriends,

bring your heart.

When you look up at the stars, I hope you know

one of them was lit for you,

and its shining is enough for me.

I hope you know there will always be brighter, stronger stars in the sky.

Perhaps you are not Andromeda’s eye.

Perhaps you do not string Orion’s belt,

nor sit on Scorpio’s spine

or seal the ladle’s lip.

But remember, dearest heart,

the storms that cover the sky are not governed by the light of the brightest stars,

and perhaps, dearest,

you will only be seen by one or two hearts lost at sea—

you will be the star that shines through the storm.

You will break through the clouds and be the one to light up their dark.

How unforgettable you will be, little one, to those two lost at sea.

Don’t confuse vulnerability with weakness—

trust in the stars that have shone on you,

and when the time comes,

when it is your turn to shine,

shine like the North Star.

When you are the only star shining into someone else’s darkness,

through the storms surrounding them,

your light will seem greater than any that has ever shone before,

and I have loved you since you first rose—

ever since you graced these horizons with your light,

and even if no one else noticed,

I did.

Oh, and let me introduce you to my new friend:

she says she goes by authenticity,

and I believe her.

 


Sarah grew up in Georgia with her mom, dad, and little sister, Merry, where she attends the University of Georgia, majoring in International Affairs and Agriculture Communication. When she graduates, Sarah wants to help people all over the world succeed in the agricultural industry and tell the all-important story of the farmer. Sarah has been homeschooled, private-schooled, and graduated from Madison County High School in May 2015. She attended Summit in July 2015. She’s lived in Costa Rica for seven months, hung out in Panama for a few days, and dreams of visiting and working in Nicaragua. She’ll read pretty much anything and has tried her hand at almost every kind of writing, though she likes poetry best. But because writing bios is a struggle, if you really want to get to know Sarah, shove some words in her general direction on her instagram @sarah.spradlin or email her at sspradlin@uga.edu.

22 Comments

  1. Grace Livingston

    Oh my word, Sarah! This piece is so encouraging and speaks to me on such a deep level. <3 Thank you for sharing!

    Reply
    • Sarah

      Hey girl!! I am so glad that you were encouraged by reading my poem!! <3 🙂

  2. Christine Eaton

    I’m so glad you decided to submit this, lovely. It stands out as one of my favorites and the more times I reread the more I appreciate it! I hope you continue to show your face around here.

    Reply
    • Sarah

      Aww!! Thank you, you lovely human. 🙂 I’m excited to be here and to share!

  3. Cindy Green

    *hugs this poem* Every time I see this, it makes me happier. Thank you for sharing, Sarah! It’s awesome to see you here <3

    Reply
    • Sarah

      Ah! Cindy!! I missed you! I’m so excited to be here!! 😀 Thank you for reading!

  4. Your Friendly Neighborhood INFP

    Wow. What a beautiful and encouraging poem. Thank you for sharing. *hugs*

    Reply
    • Sarah

      *bear hugs* Thank you so much for reading!! 🙂 I’m so glad you enjoyed it! 😉

  5. Hedges

    This poem is so beautiful and uplifting and it really touched me more deeply than I can say. Thank you for writing, I felt like this was a gift from God. (:

    Reply
    • Sarah

      *hugs* I am so glad, Heather! Thank you so much for taking the time to read it, and know that I’m cheering you on through whatever you’re walking through! <3

  6. Libby

    Sarah, what else can I say that everyone else hasn’t already said? This is such a wonderful reminder to me and I’m so grateful I read it. Thank you! <3

    Reply
    • Sarah

      Thank you so much, Libby!! I’m so thankful for you taking the time to read my poem! <3 🙂

  7. Sereena

    That was really helpful for me right now. Beautiful poem! Thank you for sharing.:)

    Reply
    • Sarah

      Hey there, Sereena! Thank you for reading it! I’m so glad that it was helpful. Cheering you on! <3 🙂

  8. Martha Baughn

    WOW!!! Just WOW!!!!

    Reply
    • Sarah

      Thanks so much, Martha!!

  9. Kate Lamb

    !!! Sarah!! It has been way too long since I read any of your poetry. This was like finding a familiar face unexpectedly. 😀 Welcome back!

    Reply
    • Sarah

      KATE!!!! I’ve missed you so much, my friend! Thank you so much for reading!! <3 🙂

  10. Brooke

    Oh my goodness! After all these years I still thoroughly enjoy reading your writing 🙂 This reminds me of so many conversations we’ve had. It’s beautiful.

    Reply
    • Sarah

      🙂 🙂 🙂 Thanks so much, Brooke!! You were definitely one of my first readers. xD <3

  11. Katherine Baker

    Sarah, you made me cry! This is stunningly hopeful and compassionate and uplifting, all at once! Thank you so much for blessing us all with this poem. I hope to see your work again!

    Reply
    • Sarah

      Your comment made my whole morning, Katherine!! 🙂 I am so glad that you liked it and that you took the time to read it!!

Leave a Reply to Katherine Baker Cancel reply

Your email address will not be published.

Article Categories

Pin It on Pinterest