A Story

For Those Who Wake

A Story

Let me tell you a story.

Of a wayward girl, with stardust in her hair

On her face, a map of the world.

She walks between the rays of the setting sun,

Her feet gentle on the Earth, whispering lullabies of love.

She carries dandelion seeds in her pockets,

A wish for every blink of her wild, glittering, horizon weathered eyes.

She speaks in riddles and melodies, and laughs full bellied and loud.

She counts the time by the color of dragonflies.

She listens to the leaves, and watches the spiders weave their webs—

And tells them stories as she goes.

She has a heart that she's carved from wreckage—

But the support beams are strong enough to carry her home.

She was sworn to secrecy by Ellipsis and Asterisk

And she whispers in italics because she loves the way

It slants across your mind.

She dances in the rain to remember—

It's only a little drop of time.

One at a time.

Until she can wander back to where she came from.

But until then—

She hands out smiles like she's breathing air

Every look a questionnaire

A challenge, if you will—

To see if you dare

To strip down, and stand up.

Naked and undeniable, with here, here.

To show the road maps and constellations worn in your bones...

All of the grief and challenges you've overcome.

Can you stand tall in who you are—

Every trip, fault and tumble has brought you this far.

Her eyes seek that place she knows in every gaze she meets

She challenges those that have the courage to look up from their feet

To remember who they are, and where they came from.

To walk with certainty in their Sovereignty

And to be able to dance in between the ebb and flow of the ocean

To learn how to crash through the sand

And polish the rough edges that graze your permeable boundaries.

Can you focus?

Can you sing down the Moon, and remind her of her Grace?

Can you rise to the Sun, and steady his pace?

Do you know where you stand among your fellow humans?

This girl tells her story, in riddles and melodies.

I met her once, wandering on a street in Seattle.

She met my gaze unquestioning.

A playful smile and a fire in her eyes.

No words spoken, but journeys exchanged through a coffee shop window.

And with that look, knowledge that none of us are ever truly alone.

She reaches in and pulls you close, and whispers things you've forgotten...

But somewhere you know that her dots and dashes are Morse code for existence.

And it will take patience


To watch them paint a picture

To rise off the pages in your mind

And soar, unrestrained through the illusion of time.

To keep hummingbirds and crows for company

While quietly listening to the Legends of the Trees

She dreams in hues unseen by sleeping eyes

And she reminisces in black and white.

But every gaze she meets she has a secret for.

She carries each story she meets in the hidden chambers of her core.

For she observes the web of interconnection, and recognizes the importance of each fractal view.

I could go on, with every detail until my lips are blue.

But you see, this is just the beginning of the story.

The end of it—

Lies within you.
surreal poetry
How does it work?
Read next: I Am A Bullet.
Heather Climer

A chaotic combination of music, molecules, color and curiosity. Fueled by no small amount of caffeine, I find inspiration in the world around me, and do my best to represent my reality.

See all posts by Heather Climer