I love a good poem.

It's something I often forget, but also, often come back to—which is a strange thing to do with something you say you love—but poetry is a lot like life, and you know how life goes. I'll pick an old poetry book off the shelf once in a while, and without fail, it makes me giddy inside to devour a brilliant find.

I was reading one of those 10 Best lists people pass around on Facebook during the holiday and came across an excerpt from an Emily Dickinson poem that really got me goin'. Had to track the whole piece down. I'm no voracious reader, and I don't possess a wealth of knowledge in regards to literature. But I know what I like. I like the Emily Dickinson candle that I picked up at a gift shop last year (she smells like lavender + cassis, I guess)...and I like this: 

If your Nerve, deny you—
Go above your Nerve—
He can lean against the Grave,
If he fear to swerve—

That's a steady posture—
Never any bend
Held of those Brass arms—
Best Giant made—

If your Soul seesaw—
Lift the Flesh door—
The Poltroon wants Oxygen—
Nothing more—

I think I'll keep this one in my pocket for 2015.
The end gets a little abstract. If you feel the same, go on and read this interpretation.

Cheers to the new year, all. May you go above your nerve, or at least begin to entertain the notion.