Did anyone else feel empowered and inspired by Taylor Young’s post last night? Guys, it was so good. SO GOOD.
Who’s ready for Taylor, Round 2? This is a different Taylor though.
We hear from one of my best friends Taylor Thornburg. Taylor and I met as roommates our freshman year of college, where our friendship began, and we lived with each other for two more years afterward. Through our college years, we formed a small group with our other two best friends Caylin and Bria, and we called ourselves “the Shawties” because we’re all short, and exactly the same height.
Taylor, an English major like me,
Later switched to history.
Yet she still had a love of poetry.
(see what I did there with all that rhyming? Possibly the extent of my poetry abilities :D)
Taylor and I are a lot alike in personality, maybe because we lived with each other for three years? Who knows. But she is one of the most honest and compassionate people I know. She is one of those friends that I can call up even when I’m a ball of tears, and can’t even express how I’m feeling. She listens well, and is always giving me advice that points back to Christ. I am overwhelmed by her kindness to me, and am so humbled to do life with her, even from a distance.
I miss and love you, Taylor. When we see each other again, we need to have a super long tea time. (sorry, I’ll probably have to drink the Kava stress-relief tea, adult life is hard sometimes haha!) ❤ ❤ ❤
Read now as she speaks to us through her poetry about choices.
This poem is in a Villanelle format, which means there’s a series of alternating lines that keep a current theme through the work, echoing themselves throughout. The theme is decisions and choosing– sometimes we can’t decide the right thing unless we are given space to choose it.
I hold on tight, my life is slipping through;
My aching dreams and passions won’t be still,
But choosing independence, I chose you.
I always jested in a tone that’s true,
“If only God will free me, it’s my will.”
I held on tighter, choices slipping through.
“But why?” You asked, “What reasons speak to you?”
I said, “My freedom. Freedom will prevail.
In choosing independence, I choose you.”
“But where?” You puzzled, “Home is with us two.”
“Some place,” I shouted, “That I feel a thrill!”
I held on tight, my life still slipping through.
“Alright.” You stepped behind the line, “You choose.”
Such isolation struck my heart so still,
In finding independence, I chose you.
My heart, a prodigal, showed me it’s true—
How enslaved and weak and fruitless was my will.
I once held on, my life seemed slipping through,
But in my independence, I choose you.