Perfectly Right.

I wasn’t born with the blood of Francis Bacon, and so my words will never grow into aphorisms that seek the truth about usury and dissimulation and the goodness of nature.

I wasn’t given the hands and fingertips of John Donne, so I will never be able to construct conceits that leave you weak at the knees.

And I wasn’t formed with John Milton’s kind of seeing eyes, so my syllables will never move into a space which is meant to hold a gift written for Jesus on His birthday or an epic about the most important question a human being will ever face.

I’m just a girl. Young of body, old of mind. Insatiably curious, aching to understand, awake far past midnight, with pen in hand.

I cannot offer anything which will ever be dissected in a university classroom. Young women and men will never cram my timeline (born: 1992, lived: Texas, eyes: green, hair: brown, heart: shattered with passion and pumping with ink) into their heads before a midterm exam.

But I can write of my life. I can write of my confusion, of my desperate attempt to live life right, to seek God and beauty and love with all my might, and so I shall write.

The aspirations of my fingertips which find their homes on pages are not so high as to reach for a man who reads my words to students as they scribble notes sitting hunched over desks.

I just ask for a single pair of eyes. Your pair of eyes. To read my words and see my heart in them. To read my thoughts and see who I am in them.

And for me, this is more than enough. For me, your precious eyes, open and drinking in the rythym of my words is so much more than I ever dreamed of once upon a time when I realized that words held a magic far greater than anything I would ever be able to call mine.

This joy of sharing my hopes here, my dreams here, my fears here; this is a joy that I cannot hold in ink or Times New Roman fond quite right.

But I promise you, it is lovely. And it burns me up inside in a delightful fire of love and light.

And I find that I’m perfectly content with my own blood, my own hands and fingertips, my own kind of seeing eyes.

I find that the pen still fits in my hand just the way it has since I first learned to grasp it tight.

Perfectly right.

 

-Jessi Sanders 2013

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2 thoughts on “Perfectly Right.

  1. You will go far !!
    The reason – You don’t concentrate on what you CAN ‘T do, but on what you CAN do.
    This is so important in every respect.
    And God has given you insight on what really matters.
    Keep up the good work.
    Gerald

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