Goodbye

At every year’s end

a new thing begins

a message we send

to all of those in

our pale-peopled circles:

Bear up, for what he will bring.

Speak up, tell of the things

he’s done and will continue to do

to those that hold fast to the truth.

We won

but there was a cost.

I’m going

but I will not be lost.

When all seems black

and you are attacked

remember these words

join them forward and back:

hope mixes.

That’s all I can leave you with

no letter to make life make sense.

I wish I had seen it all sooner

goodbye, I’ll be in Vancouver.

---

This is the last poem I’ll be posting this year! I’m working hard on a collection of this year's short stories and poetry which I have scheduled to release by December 3rd. Seeing as Thanksgiving is next week and I can’t include poems after I’ve released the collection, I’ll stop posting until next year. I’ll be using December to relax, recharge, and plan for 2022. I have put a lot into this year’s collection (much more than last year’s) and am super excited to release something I’m truly proud of. Thank you so much for following me on this year’s journey!

Now, a few words about the poem.

This year has been all about change and personal growth. I’ve seen myself face challenges old and new and learn so much about myself and the enemy through them. And while I have often wished that life would simply get better and that all my problems would stop, there is so much more potential for growth in a life that contains difficulty. And, though I feel I've overcome a lot of my current struggles, I need rest now, just like anyone else.

This poem is a goodbye—not to writing or anything like that, but to this year. Since this is my last post (apart from announcing the 2021 collection) I thought a farewell poem to sum up the year was fitting. It also captures some of what I’ve been feeling as I get closer to December. I had always planned on taking the last month off, but in some ways, it feels like I’m leaving an important part of me. My poetry is a form of expression, so I’m hesitant to take a break. But I know it’ll be there for me when I come back.

My Pale Friends are still quite active—and will continue to be—but I intend to try to remove myself from them for a while for both our sakes. This poem is a farewell to them—not that I can really leave them, of course. I'll be back, but they might be on their own for a time.

Goodbye!