Fall is a time of transition: Summer has somehow slipped through our sweaty fingers, everything is beginning anew on campus and our classes demand our time and energy again. When I arrived back at Stanford, even as a non-frosh, I felt sort of unsteady adjusting back to the life I’d put on hold since June. Because I’m somebody who gets a lot of comfort from words, I turned to some of the books of short poetry I’d brought with me to school.
Flipping through the pages of my sticky note-filled books, I felt an incredible sense of home in the words I read. From my experience, sometimes the most simple poetry can speak volumes in its brevity and grace, and rediscovering poems I’d read for the first time while living on campus last year made the transition back to college feel more like a return to home. So, for anybody feeling sort of overwhelmed by the start of fall quarter, here are some of the poems that brought me comfort as I started this year.
1. A time-relevant reminder that starting over can be a good thing:
     the leaves are going to change.
     the leaves are going to spiral to the ground.
     the leaves are going to return better than ever before.
     & darling, so are you.
     so are you.
     (Amanda Lovelace, “autumn certainties,” from “the princess saves herself in this one”)
2. Two lines that speak volumes about having faith that love never dies:
     There will be more love.
     There will be more love.
     (Yrsa Daley-Ward, untitled, from “bone”)
3. A beautiful way of describing the art of being patient with yourself as you navigate change:
      be easy.
     take your time.
     you are coming home.
     to yourself.
     (Nayyirah Waheed, “the becoming,” from “salt”)
4. On believing in the magic of tomorrow even if today sucks:
     Don’t give up now,
     chances are
     your best kiss
     your hardest laugh
     and your greatest day
     are still yet to come.
     (atticus, untitled, from “love her wild”)
5. A poem about accepting that it’s okay to break sometimes:
     in our own ways
     we all break.
     it is okay
     to hold your heart outside of your body
     for
     days.
     months.
     years.
     at a time.
     (Nayyirah Waheed, “heal,” from “salt”)
6. And finally, a reminder of what’s important in life:
     most importantly love
     like it’s the only thing you know how
     at the end of the day all this
     means nothing
     this page
     where you’re sitting
     your degree
     your job
     the money
     nothing even matters
     except love and human connection
     who you loved
     and how deeply you loved them
     how you touched the people around you
     and how much you gave them
(Rupi Kaur, untitled, from “milk and honey”)
Contact Julie Plummer at jplummer ‘at’ stanford.edu.