I might be able to do a handstand,

but I don’t very much like being upside down.

I might be able to twirl three times in a row, 

but I don’t very much like spinning. 

I might be able to do the splits, 

but I don’t very much like being stretched thin. 

I might be able to lift my foot to my head, 

but I don’t very much like things out of order.

I might be able to leap high above, 

but I don’t very much like when the clouds touch the earth. 

And I might be able to put on a costume and makeup to become a new character,

but I don’t very much like change.

Change:

the foul force 

that wages war against my wants and desires and that which I think that I need. 

Every time I think I’ve settled 

into a spot of satisfaction 

the world shifts,

the stars turn,

and I slip

            down,

                        down,

                                    down

and find myself at the bottom of the last chute

on the gameboard of life.

4 years ago,

I was on the edge of the most riveting roller-coaster ride,

upwards and upwards it pulled. 

But when I came over the crest to see the view

it plummeted before my eyes could take in the sight. 

I was not getting more little siblings. 

The thrill to the top 

only made my stomach lurch harder.

3 years ago,

I was happy and content,

yet God asked me to go away 

and find new friends. 

It was awkward and uncomfortable. 

1 year ago, 

I was living a full, abundant life

when the world shut down.

9 months ago, 

we had figured out how to harmonize in the home

when the phone rang, my grandma gone.

3 months ago,

my brothers through state borders 

my sister through ocean waves,

and I left upside down.

But at last! 

I’ve found a rhythm. 

Yet 3 weeks from now,

they’ll all be back,

and I’ll be upside down

again.

How could the most disruptive, destructive, and divisive thing

be the most important?

How could change be good?

Ah! But what about that thing love? 

That strange thing 

that makes the crooked straight

the impossible, possible. 

That thing that doesn’t look over the problem

but straight through it.

That uses the awkward, the uncomfortable, the painful, the heartbreak, the change

to a accomplish a most magnificent miracle. 

So for just 1 day,

maybe 1 month, 

maybe 1 year,

what if I let my eyes see life through the lens of love,

to see the strangeness of change,

to let the clouds touch the earth, 

to let things be out of order,

to let myself be stretched thin,

to let myself spin,

to let myself be upside down?

For I think I would find

the strangeness of love

would make me like very much 

being upside down.

_____

This poem was written by Anna Jablonski. She is a Veritas Scholars Academy student and wrote this poem for Rhetoric I. The assignment was to contemplate how God uses the unfamiliar to get our attention. Anna is in tenth grade and from Cleveland, Ohio.  She dances ballet, loves music, and writing poetry.