Beyond the Blog with Pamela Beach
One theme, many worlds. Exploring resilience, from lived experience to imagined stories.
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“Hello, I’m Pam. I’m an author, a storyteller, and this is where I explore one big theme: resilience. My writing is born from a life of navigating challenges, from foster care and homelessness to single motherhood. Here, we’re in the business of turning scars into strength.”
Category: Poem
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It does not judge the reason for the tear, Nor question how the shadow fell, or where. It asks no price, it keeps no careful score, But simply comes and opens up the door.
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For though we build and strive and soar, And ask the world to give us more, The greatest treasure we can find, Is in the choice to just be kind. In this grand quest to be all things, It’s the greatest gift a person brings.
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“So when the shadows lengthen and you stray, And doubt obscures the dawning of the day, Look for the glint of hope, however small— My love is in the light that touches all.”
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A river of night, yet touched by flame, Dark auburn flows, a whispered name. From crown it spills, a rich, deep hue, Where hidden fires glimmer through. Down past the shoulders, a gentle slide, A velvet curtain, where secrets hide. It dances free with every turn, A silent story, lessons learned.
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But listen close, my wild-fire dear, from sixty-four, the view is clearer now. Each mistake you make, each falling tear, is carving strength upon your brow. That impulsive flame you cannot tame, that fierce refusal to be small, will one day be the power in your name, the force that helps you conquer all.
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Across the miles, where continents softly dream, Two hearts awaken to the dawning gleam. In California, where the Pacific sighs, The morning paints its hues in western skies.
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My power is not a fortress wall; It is the courage just to call A friend and say, “I’m not okay.” It is the grace to want to stay And feel the feeling, sharp and true, Without the hazy veil of you.
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I do not watch from behind chairs, I pull one up and state my shares. I know the cadence of the lie, And I’m the reason it must die.
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I drink your sorrow, wear your dread, I mock the tear you try to hide. I know the words you leave unsaid, The brittle fortress of your pride. But all this feeling, fierce and true, Can never break my surface through.
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The house stood stark, a place of fear, Where young years echoed shouts I’d hear. My forts arose, in leafy space, A hidden haven, a safe place. For in the wild, I learned to be, The architect of my own decree.