are holy

and sacred

and utterly unique.

There are gifts you were born to give.

Songs you were born to sing

Stories you were born to tell.

And if you do not give it,

The world will simply lose it.

It is yours alone to offer,

No one can give it for you.

And dearest,


because this is important,

This wounded world 

needs all the songs we can pull from the air,

Every story that helps us to remember.

It needs every single gift,

large and small. 

And yes, dearest, 

This grateful world does rejoice

Every courageous time 

We are true to ourselves and to our gifts.

And so it is,

Dear heart,

We embrace the song

and the story 

and all our gifts because the world has such great need

and because the world exceedingly rejoices

and because there is no sadder thing

than to leave this world

having never really shown up.

Carrie Newcomber, A Permeable Life: Poems & Essays



in love.