Savor the row you are planted in.
Admire your own foliage.
Be proud of its unique pattern
and never despair in its disarray.
Swallow each snack of sunshine.
Sip each blue martini rainstorm.
Grow firm roots to feel grounded,
but keep branching in new directions.
You may feel like one among many, but
you’re an irreplaceable, magical being.
Whether you are harvested early
or left to rot in an abandoned field,
be confident that your life will nourish.
Existence always has purpose,
even when it happens in rows.
This poem is in response to Flashback Track #13 . The prompt this week-What’s your best advice for the next generation? Be sure to give the track a listen and link your best advice anytime before Friday next. After all, advice is a type of nostalgia we can all enjoy.
I used to assign advice pieces each year with my high school creative writing students. We would aways listen to Baz Lurhmann’s musical version of a hypothetical commencement speech by columnist Mary Schmich, originally published in June 1997 in the Chicago Tribune. So much better than my advice and still very powerful. I’ve linked it here for your listening pleasure.