~
the difference
just a day makes,
as my sun gives
way to tears;
its a different
kind of mourning,
yet i wonder
even here...
would i rather
life was lived,
instead of just
with hindsight,
was visible
in arrears?
perhaps,
sometimes,
my head nods,
yes,
but oh how often
would i miss
the wonder of
discovery;
the joy of doors
once closed,
opened when
i least expect?
and would
my choices
be the same,
with my foresight
saving me
from all the pain
that follows
love's discovery?
no,
i think
i'll take life
with all its twists
and turns
just as
its already
being written!
~
*post script
today balmy spring-like temperatures gave way to Oregon's typical late-winter rains. it is.always amazing to me how dependant we are on the weather for our moods; this change reflecting a mood already felt, a melencholy already known. sometimes it seems the weather knows best.*