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My Favorite Jars
Months pass by
 After living a constant life in a water-deprived desert
 Little, tightly compacted diamonds blanket the forest floor 
 Delivering a wave of coldness,
 Exhaling that first breath of winter into the town
 Crunching below the snow boots
 They fall in the form of snowflakes (God's treasured art)
 And melt onto my skin
 For the very first time
 I clung tightly onto my portable radio
 Stevie Wonder's "Sir Duke" leaks out of the tiny, sharpie-ink-stained speaker
 All amidst the center of nowhere
 Stop stressing, working, playing, talking, and thinking for a moment
 Right now, it
 Feels like the cold air welcoming you
 Smells like frozen pine needles
 Looks like wildlife footprints marking the snow-covered Earth
 Taste's like ice
 Sounds like Stevie Wonder's "Sir Duke" blended with the sound of static
 I wish I could capture it all 
 Preserve it in some glass jar with a red ribbon tied around it
 And store it in a pantry of first-time memories
 Inhale the sweet scent
 Right now, I realize
 How significant nature can be
 Set foot on the frozen lake setting the fish's life on pause
 The ice melting into your un-zipped fashion boots
 Enjoy the first sight of falling snow
 (How little did I know how much that largely would influence me) 
 
 Days pass by 
 And another family rips apart like the seams on a child's worn-out blanket (both are heavily sentimental) 
 Leaving emotional scars from morose battles 
 They teach you to carry a shield
 Stand up right after you fall
 I learn this when
 I meet my great aunt for the first time after
 Years of separation due to the complications of some 
 Separated family shattered like the frail sheet of delicate glass and
 Scattered in bits and pieces, tenaciously refusing to mend
 My mom and her embrace each other after all the years of disconnection
 She smiles; I see no judgment coming from her like a harmful tsunami 
 As it has so many times before
 (Ripped, torn, shredded. Is that what family is supposed to do to your once-shinning confidence and joy?) She hugs me and right then I could tell
 I am accepted for who I am as a person,
 Not rejected for appearance or so someone can shield their view of the reality I am
 Age, time and beloved passed by her 
 Too fast, too swiftly before it was supposed too
 But she still wakes up in the morning and stands strong,
 An example I've needed for so long 
 We exchange words of advice, morals, lessons and 
 She lays down the family history on the wooden table
 And I can see through my mothers face her happiness is glowing through like
 Stars through the night sky 
 As she grasps fragments of the history in her hands
 Right now, the lies, judgment, jealousy and loss
 Do not exist
 Making homeland buttermilk biscuits for the first time
 And it feels like the best thanksgiving
 (Even though it's the middle of July)
 Just cutting strips of butter and mixing flour
 Mixing a new way of life
 We all gather, join hands, block out the world and say grace...
 Stop stressing, working, playing, talking, and thinking for a moment
 Right now, it:
 Feels like true thankfulness
 Smells like homemade buttermilk biscuits baking in the oven
 Looks like a shattered family gluing the broken pieces back together (or just the few important ones after years of damage) 
 Tastes like blackberry jam and cottage cheese
 Sounds like my great aunt beautifully thanking God and Jesus for everything in life 
 Right now, I realize 
 I have everything to be thankful for right with me
 That it's simple moments like this that truly matter in life
 And again 
 I wish I could capture it all
 Preserve it in some glass jar with a gingham ribbon tied around it
 And store it in some pantry of the happy family times
 Then give someone else that feeling of acceptance
 (How little does she know how much that short time has largely influence me)
 
 Time flies again
 Nature's water droplets fall from the sky during lunch hour 
 Blue, tiny, little gems coming from the clouds above dissipate onto the gum-stained concrete 
 Inputting glitter into the desert
 Some classmate is sitting in the far corner; 
 His acoustic guitar echoes the string of notes that I call magic 
 Calmly strumming a guitar riff from that Phillip Phillips song
 It elicits so many memories
 Stop stressing, working, playing, talking, and thinking for a moment 
 More blue gems, gifts from the clouds above, keep dissipating
 Stop caring if the rain smears your mascara
 Right now, it: 
 Feels like comfort
 Smells like pencil shavings, nachos, and the city's pollution sticking to the air
 Looks like some classmates playing around vending machines
 Taste's like frozen, prepackaged school chicken sandwiches
 Sounds like the one kid in the corner strumming some Phillip Phillips song on his guitar... staring at the distance (or more like the attendance office),
 Lost in the sound like I am
 Right now, clothes, shoes, makeup, grades, 
 Do not exist 
 Right now, I realize
 What is the point of materialistic needs? 
 I won't need designer labels to feel happy
 That it's simple moments like this that truly matter in life
 When natures blue gems are falling from the clouds and 
 The sound of an acoustic guitar are beautifully played
 It's all I need to be filled of joy
 The beautiful guitar keeps playing as I pull it all in 
 I wish I could capture it all 
 Preserve them in some glass jar with a striped ribbon tied around it
 And store in a pantry of beautiful simplicity 
 (How little does he know how much that short time has largely influence me)
 
 Laying in the bedroom as the plastic fans
 Blast through the air even though it's the beginning of May
 Lost in that Sue Monk Kidd novel
 "Hey Jude" on playing through some oldies station 
 Staying up endless nights wrapped in writing poetry
 And dreams of completing the impossible, (or every possibility in the world) 
 Watching 80s high school movies on a fuzzy retro television
 The invincibility that comes with summer
 Stop stressing, working, playing, talking, and thinking for a moment
 Right now, it
 Feels like everlasting youth
 Smells like cheap, generic hairspray and home-made laundry soap
 Looks like the pile of rejected poetry you just wrote all last night
 Tastes like cream soda
 Sounds like plastic, electric fans and "Hey Jude" 
 I wish I could capture it all
 Preserve it in some glass jar with a pink ribbon tied around it
 And store it in a pantry of true happiness
 Right now, I realize
 That it's okay to hold precious time in your hands and stop it for a moment
 Feel the tick tock of all the worlds clocks and the cycle of the universe
 (How much I love how that has influenced me) 
 
 I come across a map of the globe,
 Right then, I realize
 How amazing it would be if I could capture and store everyones stories
 In glass jars with ribbons tied around them
 So humankind, from all around the world,
 Can gather together, glue the shattered pieces together, say grace, play in snow, play that one song and
 Just one day enter a pantry of memories
 Uncap every single lid
 And escape in the world's most treasured moments
 Poured out on just one wooden table

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