
“Tell me, what is the point?”
My soul cries on dark days
When the heaviness drags at my bones.
“Is it worth going on?
Must I do this again
When I’m nothing but sorrows and stones?”
And the universe says,
With a voice like the stars,
“My dear thing, this is only the start.
I will show you the point,
And the secret I know,
If you simply will open your heart.
You can find it in ponds,
Under brown mushroom caps,
On the plains or the grey mountaintops.
You can find it in schools,
Between hospital beds,
Within chapels, apartments, and shops.
It’s the leap of a fox
Into blankets of snow
And the song of a wren in the sky.
It’s the grin of a girl
Taking daring first steps
And an old man first learning to cry.
The point is just living,
The point is just loving,
Laughing, grieving, and trying again.
It’s the sun and the moon,
The expanse of the sea,
And the brightness that follows the rain.
It will hurt, it will ache,
It will drag at your bones,
But as long as you listen, I’ll call
In the baby-green leaves
That wave greetings in spring,
Then, red-gold, bid you rest in the fall.”
About the Creator
Jessica Dowding
I have an overactive imagination and I really like petting dogs. I love using creative writing to dig into the small moments that make up humanity.



Comments (6)
That was a beautiful read.
Evocative work, Jessica. Keep it up!
Love this 💕
Nurturing beautiful words
Your poem reminded me of how small I feel when I look at the stars, and how my problems seem insignificant compared to them.
This feels like a quiet conversation with the universe. Soft, grounding, and deeply reassuring.