I think on friends who valued me. Their words falling gently, always making more of me. I fill with gratitude and wishes to tell them of the garden that grows inside my heart with memories bearing their names. What a lifetime that would be, just telling everyone what a gift they’ve given. How nice it is to know that in some life you’ve been a treasure, a thing of beauty or mystery. I never cease to wonder what it was they saw in me. How do I imagine what it means to make another person proud?
Thoughts come too of folks who claimed undying loyalty. Then they left when winds turned cold or when I turned out to be less, less than what I’ll never know. They never stayed to tell me what it was that made them go. One day I was a treasure, and the next I was on the curb. One day we walked together, sharing secrets. Then the whispers were never heard. Those thoughts haunt me like debris inside my brain I can’t clean out. Night oil on the mind when I’m lonely is not nice. So I go back to thinking of those who held me up.
I know enough to stare up at the night sky. I feel whole and get perspective on these things that I don’t even think about when the sun shines and trees branch wide around me. I wonder at the beauty of the full moon and the stars. I know that space debris has gorgeous colors and it’s own bright light. Just look at the wispy, windy patterns and reflections that it makes like filmy fibers in the night. Who could call that trash? It’s a sight I’d keep forever.
One man’s trash is another’s treasure.
It’s true about stars and people too.
—me strauss Letting me be