here’s to the versions i never met;
written last September 2023
Here’s to the girl who’d write rather than teach
To the girl wearing a skirt that reaches her ankles,
With a laptop and notebook inside her bag,
Trying to capture worlds and images she crafted in her mind.
To the girl who’d visit local cafes,
Staying in the same seat long after the sun has set,
And the baristas greeting her smile and giving her “usual” drink.
Here’s a toast of a poem,
To the girl who wouldn’t mind the nights the moon kept her company,
And to the girl who’d dance with the characters she made.
With ideas swirling in her head,
With the coffee turning cold next to her laptop,
With her notebook filled with notes only she can decipher,
And with her mind keeping her adrift in her own fantasy world,
May she write her fantasies as they try to escape her thoughts,
May she scribble down any and every confounding wonder and wander,
May she stay fearful of her ideas slipping away, lest she memorialize them,
May she be brave in her own story just as her protagonist is,
And may she continue to fall in love with the fictional universes she crafted in her head.
Here’s to the girl who’d travel rather than stay home
To the girl with wide eyes, taking in every corner and every surrounding,
With uncertainty in her look, but determination in her gaze.
Trying to fit in but still standing out.
To the girl who’d willingly get lost in the middle of the crowd,
Conversing and trying to converse with the locals,
And getting immersed in a language that is not her tongue.
Here’s a toast of a ticket,
To the girl who’d do anything
And to the girl who’d go anywhere
With sand in her hair as she lies at the beaches,
With the leaves applauding her in the mountains she summits,
With her early mornings grabbing the locals’ breakfast,
And with her late-night drinks with newfound friends, dare she call them that, every night,
May she be fearless in each adventure she takes,
May she wander in the world she calls her home,
May she live fully and embrace the comfort she finds in discomfort,
May she leave a piece of herself in each place she lingers,
And may she continue to fall in love with each person, each city, and each culture she greets.
Here’s to the girl who chose to teach in a classroom rather than through the internet,
To the girl with bags under her eyes as she faces the morning traffic,
Trying to finish everything, but still finishing nothing,
With a to-do list that never seems to end,
To the girl who’d muscle through the paperwork,
Laughing at the inside jokes with her students,
And smile through the not-so-secret secret handshakes for each one of her kids.
Here’s a toast of a mug,
To the girl who’d rejoice at her students’ eurekas,
And to the girl who’d push through after every heartache.
With markers in her pockets after a full day’s work,
With paperwork after paperwork overflowing her already full table,
With lesson plans she tries but can never follow through,
And with gifts her students present to her, with a hopeful look on their faces,
May she inspire her teachers the same way she became inspired,
May she smile at the memories her class has crafted,
May she keep every small gift her students give,
May she laugh at every inside joke the kids utter,
And may she continue to fall in love with the everyday routine of teaching.
Here’s to the versions I never met.
Here’s to the women I never get to become.
Here’s a toast to the could-have-beens,
And to the what ifs,
Because here’s to the woman I get to become.
A little mix of all three.
Here’s to the version of the women I met,
To the woman I get to become.
Here’s a toast of a poem,
To the girl in the cafe,
Typing as fast as her hands can carry her
In the wee hours of the night.
Here’s a toast of a ticket,
To the girl in the mountains,
Running as fast as her feet can take each step,
Spending every weekend immersed in nature’s jewels,
Here’s a toast of a mug,
To the girl in the classroom,
Waving and talking to students as fast as her eyes can recognize them.
Hustling through the paperwork and grinding through the day.
Here’s to all the versions I get to meet,
Here’s a toast to the woman I get to become.
