Finding Joy in the No’s
And peace with all the closed doors
Because of something greater
A greater alignment
A greater opportunity
A greater blessing
Even in the waiting period, there is a joyous lesson
I Wait with joy
I Wait with peace
I Wait and still believe God is working for me
There is joy in the No's
And peace with every closed-door
What is for me will come
And what isn't will go
So I will not worry any more
About another no
Nor any closed door
A major key to the joyous life I chose to live
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The theme for this month is A Joyous Life! That's why all my poems seems to be related and somewhat repetitive. I hope they are inspiring you all and uplifting.
About the Creator
L.I.E
Hey, I'm Emily! Thanks for reading. Hope you read something that inspires you. Or something that you find relatable.
Foot Bindings
I asked my grandmother how she knew she'd fallen in love. I am not sure I ever did love him, she said. This was before I met my husband. I was naive, a naked spring, a raw nerve of a thing. That cannot ever be me, I knew. Sadness swept in gently like a Moscow thaw. It is no simple thing, looking into a woman's vast soul and seeing its foot bindings. Now, in Italy divorced with my skin singed off, when I say I don't love him mean: I have succeeded at feeling nothing most days and it mostly works. Do you want the comfort of Nothing? Do you want Nothing, too? Be warned: you'll never be free, even when you are nothing. Here is what doesn't work: Accepting the stages of grief. Talking about it. Sitting with the feeling. Missing him—no, the person you were when you believed in death do us part. Writing poetry. That, too. When I say I don't love him I mean: I feel capsized in an endless, starved tide. What sometimes works: selective memory. You must forget ripe tomatoes and his beard and feeling perfectly sheltered in a big blue world. Forget coffee in bed, laughter watching TV, blowing out the candles on the birthday cake and the quiet all-encompassing knowledge that you are chosen. Remember only how love turned to a banal everyday survival act, a trapeze act unsure whether he will catch you, how the warmth stagnated and became sour, remember the foot bindings and remember the resentment boiling in your veins as you stick it out for the kids. Six-hour Netflix binges help, too. A man's fingers tracing your spine. Frozen pizza at 2 a.m. Random trips to the museum just to stand near things that last a while. The realization that crying won’t change anything. Seeing that life is just a dream, and refusing to participate in your own suffering. Bite your fist. Walk on eggshells around joy. When I say I don't love him, I mean he didn’t break my heart, he just stopped touching it and it forgot how to beat right.
By Ella Bogdanova5 days ago in Poets
Comments (13)
True. Our happiness and worth need not hinge on yes or no of other.
This really bless me Emily ❤️😍🙏
Well written dear ❣️
Love this poem. Very inspirational. Keep the faith and all great things will come your way.
Such a powerful reminder to trust the process! Inspiring!
So, so important in its messaging! Amazing work, Emily!
This poem is beautifully uplifting and offers a powerful perspective on finding joy and peace in life's uncertainties.
Oh, yeah! I loved the vibe here... Can't wait to read more from the Joyous life 😄❤
Oh yes, it's so peaceful that some doors are closed. Loved your poem!
what is for me will come that is, An ideal expression of faith very good
Peace and joy beyond the expected. rejoice in what is truly yours.
Very inspiring. 😃
And peace with every closed door. Lovely. Beautiful poem