the last month before May

2024 - Attributes of the Divine

Side note: Not every poem is going to follow this particular "theme"
I don't have set ideas for what poems I will write, I will just write as they come. This theme is more so akin to the fact that A HUGE chapter of my life is beginning in May, so this NaPo is pretty special in that regard. Hope everyone likes my work! Feel free to leave comments or even reviews (enspoilered please). ♡

i had an update here but deleted it <3

4/1/25 - magnolias

I’ve been plagued with the curse of nostalgia
My sentimentality coupled with my detriment
I bottle up my tears and keep them in a closet
And what’s worse is that I don’t know why
But you, my love, have brought me hope
And daydreams that I spend my hours longing
The heavy nostalgia, once a weight on my back
Is now a companion I can have coffee with
My appreciation for you leaves me awestruck
That while the trees may be nothing but leaves
You remind me the magnolias will bloom again

4/2/25 - shoulder

when life grieves us
wrings us out of passion, art, and play
when our bodies blister from the sun
and our minds need somewhere to run
when the roses turn out to be just thorns
and the moon is a beacon of darkness
my shoulder will be there for you

4/3/25 - wild rose

That wild rose perfume reminds me of date nights
High heels and good laughter — we never get bored
— of a new dress I saved for your eyes first,
Of rocky blues on the stereo in your small, black car
Windows down, we smile and hold hands in the cold
The night ends in harmony, in sadness, but soon
We won't have to sleep in separate houses, or beds,
I’ll be in your arms, you’ll say I’m “your girl”
And our night will end so splendidly

4/4/25 - magic 8 ball

“Will we be together forever?”
I shake the magic 8 ball
It is certain, it reads
I don't believe in luck,
But what are the chances

Now months later, here I am
crossing out days on the calendar
til our marriage, this covenant
to keep and never break til our
forever on earth comes to an end

I don't believe in luck,
but I believe in sovereign powers
that God places us here perfectly
no odds go against His ruling hand
our fates are certain in His plans

skip 4/5

4/6/25 - coffee

there’s coffee in my fingernails,
absorbed in my tongue, staining my teeth
marking my cotton shirts, my routines, my blood
medium roast, pour creamer for three seconds—
my version of seconds—3 packets of sweetener
don't patronize me;
am I any better than an alcoholic?

4/7/25 - sanctification

The plant was dying
I separated the good root from the rot and propagated it
To my surprise, it is flourishing; new roots stretch their legs
And the baby leaves wave to me in the early morning light
My golden pothos now has another chance at life

Spoiler

this poem is meant to represent how God sanctifies us as we put to death our sin because we are renewed and are given new life through Christ

4/8/25 - the clock

In those days of crafting mermaid potions
there was not yet that gratitude in my heart
for the simple pleasures of childhood, these pleasures
were reminders of the slow clock and empty room
now I do what I can to pause the timer of life
as I recall the days of itchy ankles from bahiagrass
of the wind whisking away the helicopter seeds
and the sweat drops as I race against my own record
how I did not see the blessings in that type of peace
these hours ring fast, and even if the days are long
our years are shortened, nostalgia is sweet
but regret reigns bitter and my only plea
is to not hold a grudge against the hours and minutes
but find comfort in the makings of today and tomorrow

4/9/25 - the path to love

I am grateful that with age, my soul changed,
that the steps in my walk led me to new directions.
These choices, whether grand or small, paved the path
to meeting my dearest lover, whom I cherish so fondly—
as though I heard the sound of the dove calling and followed suit,
drawn near by the lullaby of ancient lovers, to lush caverns
and cosmic passions, where the odds of our stars aligned.

With time, our hearts not only grow fonder, but grow stronger,
forged from steel and roses—gentle and bulletproof—
resilient against the hands of devils and doubts. Our hearts
a healing force, not one belittled to asphalt in potholes,
but a tender hand that covers countless of sorrows and strife,
a type of healing no doctor can fathom, no matter the study.
Truly, love does work miracles—ours is just a glimpse.

4/10/25 - sprout

Blushing pink to rust
One by one they are dying
How can I hope now?

Something is breaking
Light is brimming the surface
I feel the brisk air

Color in my eyes
Honeydew leaves appear near
I see the bright hope

A butterfly comes to play
This season brings me to life

4/11/25 - flightless bird

I hear the songbirds in the sky
and try to hum along to their tune,
but I have fallen behind and I cannot
go to where they fly.
This lyrical prose they speak, how captivating.
I, too, am bewitched, as I yearn to be
where they are—adored and immensely inspiring.
Yet I am here, daunted by words, by rhythm,
by wanting to sing with a paralyzed tongue.
My labors of love are not enough to make me loved,
they never will be. This itch I cannot satisfy,
I wonder how soon I will be eclipsed by the
thorns that coddle me, that whisper sweet nothings
that truly mean nothing. For these songbirds are lovely,
I sit at my window and watch as they flitter about,
while the barb in my gut reminds me that I am just
a flightless bird. Where to go, I wish I knew, I wish
I was a nightingale, I wish that I could sing those sweet songs, too.