Post Graduate Life from a Poet's Perspective
By Anna Stepankova
Now I’ve seen it, I’ve felt it
The pain of the world fell on me in the shape of a collapsing entity
First smaller rocks tapping my back
Reminding me that not all is blue and pink
Larger ones then pounded at my soul’s door
Showing me
How all I know is quite gray
How every laughter is tainted by hidden pain
How all anger is a cry for love’s soothing voice
How every soul walks through unimaginable suffering before death’s release
And my world no longer dances in pink
But crawls and slouches in a gray odor of life’s beatings
Sometimes it turns dark, chased by all that wants to survive
But sometimes I see the shimmering light and the world floods with gold
Heavy rocks flew onto my shoulders
Now I slouch under the weight of every step too
Circling in the endless search for bright lightness
Wondering whether I can continue so seamlessly
Carrying invisible loads
Knowing fully well
to expect greater falls
Don’t you know darling
Skyscrapers are the stars of our world
And if you don’t make it there, you’re not worthy of heaven
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How could you care about a dime
When our only true wealth is time
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Those who fight for life in their head every waking hour
Can no longer see the silhouette of hope in the rear windows
If you stop and listen carefully
when you sit side by side
You can hear the screams of fighting thoughts
It’s not a simple task to hide
But if you put down your pride
And slow down your mind
You can see how you and me are still the same kind
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I smile at life
And life smiles back at me
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The stars were falling
My life was calling
Bring me back to life they said
The unspoken words, the untouched dreams
Tame all of my hidden screams
Kill me to be with you they whispered
Life is just a coincidence
Switch my flip and I’ll be yours
Nobody is coming to save us
So you have to spend your whole life
Searching and inviting your inner light
To pull you from your darkest days
And shine on your brightest ones
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As I drawn in my own sorrows
I wonder what I would tell a child in my distress
I would ask her whether she knows why lights flicker in the distance
Why they wink at you like stars in the sky
There are many elements blocking your clear sight
The wind, the dust, preventing you from seeing
But that doesn’t deny the light’s existence
They still shine for you bright and clear, without a true blink or hesitation
Your light is there in the distance too
I see your goals shimmering every time I look at the skyline
They’re there, waiting for you
You just feel far with elements blocking your mind from seeing clearly
But step by step, you’ll walk towards it
And find that they were shining bright for you all along
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Sunrises turn into sunsets at a devilish speed
You and I might never know what we truly need
Turning the blank pages of tomorrow’s
What if they could drown our sorrows
If filled ashtrays could speak
They’d tell you the story of empty glasses
How hope turned it’s cheek
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Exactly a month ago I couldn't get out of bed and every movement felt like a risk. Every step was a burden and every breath was a small curse. Today, in the stroking light of the sunset's rays, I bathe in the joyful aroma of southern Spain. Life feels light and every ray of morning sun feels like a blessing. At the core, I still walk alone, but that no longer carries an odor of pain, but opportunity. The power of freedom has been returned into my accepting hands and my grip moves in purposeful strokes. I can paint my own life with colors and textures I get to choose. The sweet taste of possibilities pierced my tongue and I carry it with the helping hand that hope offered. No goal is too grand for a soul that is patient. No place is too far for a soul that believes in the goodness of all people’s hearts. No thought is too insane for a mind that is open. Anything is possible and all of it is waiting for you to hear its gentle calling. Every small decision can lead you to exactly where you need to be.
But never forget that at the top of every hill stands another to climb.
Every sunset I see here feels like a painting the world offers to you as a reminder that life is yours to live and she is here to do so with you, offering itself on a golden plate.
Nowadays, most of the world moves in pink and yellow undertones that make everything shine under a hazy cover of white soft light. Each stroke that the world has been painted with is gentle and only touched the sky’s surface to let it live a life of its own. In the tenderness of pastels was every grain of sand placed exactly where it belongs. Each tender blow of the wind stroked your cheek with care and the rhythm that waves have chosen today softly caress the shore. The mighty mountains surrounding this city stand tall and proud to remind you of how small all your troubles are compared to their greatness, and that your life is nothing but a fleeting moment. A piece of time that they will gracefully watch pass by and stand tall regardless, way past your existence. Below the skies, where you might be sitting one day too, they like to form a gentle silhouette for you to see whenever you glance at the distance hoping to catch the worries that could torment your future steps. The birds too, only fly as high as the sky reaches, knowing their limits, yet a sight of them indicates how insignificance is no sign of fear. They are living within their own deluded perception, yet come together with the world in complete synchronicity. Aligned with their peers, they form clouds that move across the sky, whispering that harmony is possible for all living creatures. They know that their power is in togetherness and describe how one can never truly be better than another.
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After all, I think life might be much like the ocean and the shore. The waves can grow large and whip the shore rather cruelly. Despite the shore’s beauty and its unbelievable ability to mend every step it has been imprinted with, the sea still decides to continue its strokes carelessly. Strike after strike, the shore takes its beatings, only for it to be hit again. Just as the white mountaintops try to disarm any brave soul that wishes to see it, the white wavetops let us know she too will have no mercy.
But sometimes, when days shine brighter and the world's touch feels warmer, the waves grow kind and gently stroke the shore’s surface with every care in the world. Smaller strokes tickle every grain and you can be sure that no stone will sit unturned. Every wave slowly uncovers every edge, every crease, and even the most stubborn shells let go and surrender eventually. Just so do the challenges we encounter reveal every hidden piece of us. Some of these bits we see for the very first time in light’s unforgiving brightness. But you must know that the shore never knows the reason for the cruel wave’s arrival, the duration of its stay, or the time when it will be stroked again. With every piece of its being, the sand accepts every incomer and never blames its unknown creator. The shore surrenders to what we call life and always recovers from even the cruelest of storms.