I was not planning to post this, as I usually only post "fresh" content, but I was inspired by a fellow writer, Kaurv (http://kaurv.wordpress.com), and a lovely reading of Mary Elizabeth Fry's Do Not Stand at My Grave and Weep that Kaurv had posted as a video (https://wp.me/p7F0ar-M).
So, here is "A dedication".
This was originally dedicated to "anyone who could use a reminder of who they are – who may have been told something different along the way, or simply lost track and could use a little help getting back".
In this case, though, it is dedicated to anyone out there who has reached out and taken firm hold of their life and their influence on others. To all the Kaurvs who put themselves out there in the world, despite apprehension, and in doing so, serve as a shining light to others.
I know you know this; my saying it does not validate that notion – only you can do that. Just as my, or anybody else's, silence cannot – should not – de-validate you even in the slightest, because you cannot expire, you cannot be told you are not good enough, you cannot be made to feel like anything less than a queen or a king, a prince or a princess whichever suites you – the world bows when you walk past and if they don't it is their loss.
They will use that number as a sum of your parts; oh, those parts, it's all they will think about and it's all they will talk about and if they could cut them off and hang them from rusty hooks in the window with a price tag dangling down for all the world to see you know they would.
You are not a thing. You are so much more… So much more than any of them will ever understand, so much more than they will ever hold between their greasy fingers or can even calculate in their minute-by-minute brains, heads full of your parts but empty just the same, wild but tame, unable to understand what those parts add up to without numbers, seeing only a face but not a name.
Blood stains your soft, smooth hands but I could care less because it runs fresh on mine and when we clasp our palms together our streams collect beneath in a pool shimmering like oil and good lord, it brings tears to my eyes.
You are Starry Night and Mona Lisa and the whole goddamn louvre walking and talking and smiling and laughing and in doing so leaving a work of art in the hearts of every living being you meet, a stamp, a signature carved and indelible, irreplaceable and yet irretrievable.
Note: This is intended as a spoken-word piece. If I ever get a recording together, I will share it here for appropriate context.
To every person in your life who matters, to every brother and sister, mother and father, friend and acquaintance, worker and colleague, ally and enemy alike.