Luminous

sometimes there are words that fit together like puzzle pieces and make something so beautiful, so subtle and brave and luminous, that the something hits you right in the chest and sweeps you off your feet says mr cavendish. for me those words are the words to the poem all that is gold does not glitter by jrr tolkien. for these last few minutes of class i am going to read you this poem. he takes a long slow breath, then looks out at our class.

all that is gold does not glitter,
not all those who wander are lost;
the old that is strong does not wither,
deep roots are not reached by the frost.
from the ashes a fire shall be woken,
a light from the shadows shall spring;
renewed shall be blade that was broken,
the crownless again shall be king.

there is silence in our classroom for a moment. mr cavendish captivates us all when he recites.

the bell signifying the end of the school day rings and the poetry spell is broken.

bring your puzzle piece poem to class on monday mr cavendish says over the rattle and clank of voices and pencil cases and friday freedom. i stand up and swing my bag onto my back, then leave the classroom.

i head directly to my grandma's house and snag a white chocolate macadamia nut cookie from the cookie jar and run up the stairs to the second floor and then up the ladder to the attic. there is a whole wall of books up there and i know just which book i want.

figs and thistles figs and thistles figs and thistles i whisper to myself as i shuffle through piles of books and books and more books. finally i see it, the slim purple-bound book with the poem that always has, and always will, steal my breath away.

i open it and feel the finger-worn pages under my hands and they are soft and welcoming and they seem to say hello willow, welcome to serenity.

i flip to the back of the skinny little book and run the tip of my finger along the first line of typed words.

my candle burns at both ends i whisper, and i feel the puzzle pieces beginning to move into shape.