This weekend, I saw the Taylor Swift movie with my daughter. It was fun and a little awe-inspiring. One of the first scenes was this little tiny woman standing on top of a lighted podium in the middle of a huge stadium absolutely full of people shouting and crying and singing along.
Now, I love music. It’s been a big part of my life for a long time. I’ve been to several concerts, including legends like John Denver, Robert Plant, and Bon Jovi. More recently, I’ve seen several K-pop concerts with my daughter, including Stray Kids and Twice.
All of those experiences were wonderful, but seeing this woman (who really is still human, no matter how great her talent) standing on that podium made me so envious. Wouldn’t I love to be able to do that? To get that immediate feedback from a crowd hanging on your every word.
But that’s not my life. My life is to write and doubt and hope that someone out there reads and finds meaning. What Taylor Swift has in excess, I undoubtedly lack.
Maybe we all have to give up whatever that is in order to have performers like her? If so, it’s definitely worth it.
Loud (a poet’s wish) By Michelle Garren-Flye Sometimes I wish I could be a bit loud, proclaim each verse and be proud! But I’m doomed instead to be great in my head. In the face of the crowd, I’m just stoic; my voice comes out less than a croak. (Can you hear in the back? Forgive my panic attack.) My confidence is next to none. (As in, out of ten, about a one.) So I’ll just continue to write, convince myself it’s not trite. I may wish to throw my head back and rage— But instead I’ll whisper my words to the page.




