I’m always providing links to blogs I’ve read and really enjoyed. Or where I’ve found the inspiration for a post of my own. But I’ve never actually written out the content of another blog.
So today is a first for me. I was so moved, so touched and so inspired by what I read the other day, I knew a link just wouldn’t do it justice. The words themselves, the spirit behind them and the lesson to be learned, is just too powerful.
Particularly when you consider the poem I’m going to share with you was written by a young girl. Only fourteen or fifteen years old, in fact. But first, some background.
Elizabeth Blue, who wrote the poem, passed away on September 23, 2012, from lymphoma. Wise and talented far beyond her years, she was a gifted and prolific writer. She and her mother started a blog, Luminous Blue, when she first became ill. It’s purpose — to tell she story of their journey “with transformation, cancer, death and LOVE”. I’ve been following it for about a year.
Even though Elizabeth is gone, the blog goes on. What you’re about to read is the poem Elizabeth wrote when she was in her freshman year of high school 2004 – 2005. Long before she got sick. Long before there was even a hint her life would be cut short. Long before she’d experienced enough of life to be this wise. This ‘connected’ to her soul. I read it
on Tuesday morning, when her mother posted it on Luminous Blue.
To quote Rumi.
I want to say one thousand words of thanks.
One million rose petals in the air.
To kiss the sky.
I want God to know that I am grateful
I want to be humbled by the sheer knowledge of what is.
I want to blow into one million pieces, and dedicate myself to the world.
I want to say thank you,
And mean it.
I want to tell the world,
That my Indian lover is
And the sea.
I want you to know that beauty is everlasting,
And that I am only a temporary placement of outer beauty.
I want you to know that the beauty inside me is everlasting.
And I want you to know that I did not create this.
I created some.
I want you to know that eternity is forever, and then more.
I want you to know that ‘me’ is just a figure of speech.
I want you to know that I love you.
And that life,
Was one of those days worth living.
© Elizabeth Blue
Quite something, don’t you think? Such a beautiful philosophy. Such an inspirational message. For someone so young to truly understand the gift that life is. And the responsibility we have to live it, to its fullest potential. To appreciate each and every moment we are given. To be satisfied with each and every moment we are given. Blessed with.
For me, the lessens in this beautiful poem are many. Not the least of which is the need to change the way we measure life. It’s not about time. It’s about purpose. And meaning. Quality. Impact. And what we leave behind.
Measured that way, Elizabeth Blue has lived many, many lifetimes in only 22 years. And, through her poetry, she will live forever.
Something we should all be grateful for. And every day one of her poems inspires us, or cheers us, or teaches us will surely be “one of those days worth living”.
That is a remarkable and beautiful poem. What a tragic short life for a beautiful, talented youngster.
I know. What an incredible gift she had.
I’m so moved by this – thank you Fransii. She is an amazing soul!
I was too. I keep reading it over and over again. That’s why I just had to share it. She was truly remarkable. So gifted.
Fransi, thank you so much for sharing my daughter Elizabeth’s poem here! I, too, find this poem inspiring and hope that she will impact others as she has profoundly impacted and inspired me. She was an amazing writer, shy about sharing her poems, but when I told her that I would be sure her writing reaches many people, she was very happy to know that. Thank you for helping to spread her words!
She will; and she is. You are most welcome. It is my pleasure. Your daughter had an incredible gift. Thank you for sharing it.
Thank you for seeing her and her gift!
Trust me, her gift cannot be missed.
What an amazing poem, thank you for sharing it. What a loss.
It is just extraordinary, isn’t it?
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