Like No Other

I am now passing the middle of middle age,
And, I spend some of me – remembering,
Recounting the seemingly significant.

Such journeys are not unusual,
To those with trauma or awareness,
But, the value of revisiting varies.

I’ve wasted some of myself in my past,
Loosing life now, to thoughts of then,
Relationships, jobs, relocations – the usual suspects.

Also, I’ve learned from experience,
Some in layers, through repeated review,
Perceiving wisdom in the lessons given.

In truth, I’ve had no extraordinary tales,
In the realms of the practical and external,
No adventure or drama, as like some.

My life has been simple enough,
Yet there are emotional sufferings,
I find deeply etched into me.

Most have faded, with thought or time,
Keeping the appreciation, forgetting the pain,
Truly as such is meant to be.

But she persists.

Though many years gone,
And long married to another,
Are her gifts to me yet revealed?

Sometimes, still:

With tears, I miss her terribly,
With anguish, I regret that I left her,
With remorse, I look back,

Sometimes, still:

With deep love, I remember her,
With joy, I behold her image,
With bliss, I fill my heart with her,

Sometimes, still.

This persistence begs me to understanding,
Is it of my creation, that I refuse to forget,
Is this revelation, in need of discernment?

Shall I embrace her even now,
Through untold depth of feeling,
Until I have learned all there was to learn?

Does she, though absent, council me yet,
On the primary power within life,
To choose the happy or the sad.

 How does she bless me,
“Let me count the ways”,
“For a reason, or a season, or a lifetime”…
 
 

2009/06/23