A Global Walk {The Journey}

I measure every grief I meet with analytic eyes;

I wonder if it weighs like mine, or an easier size.

I wonder if they bore it long, or did it just begin?

I could not tell the date of mine, it feels so old a pain.

I wonder if it hurts to live, and if they have to try,

and wether, could they choose between, they would not rather die.

-Emily Dickinson 

I found this in the library today.

I identify with it so much, that it captured me to stillness.

I had to write it down immediately. It ran over and over in my mind.

I felt so very close to it's words.

I have thought something like this often, yet very much less poetic.

I bet people have even wondered this about me at times.

But the beauty of all that pain is the very fact that right now I know the joy of over coming and rising above it. I am so much more steady in my own bones than I could have every thought.