Wednesday, July 28, 2010

Newspaper poem

A long time ago I found this poem in the newspaper. I was the ripe old age of 21 or so - tired and worn from living life too fast and all wrong. I carried it in my wallet for years - wrinkled and frayed. It still resonates with me. It's such a sad poem though. It came to my mind tonight. I love my husband so much. I need him. Like air.

Today he was angry because the washer keeps leaking after he fixes it. And he's sore from working on the sites. The big monsoon rains have washed sand over all the sites and roads. Four inches covering the cement! He dislikes the hot weather. The propane wasn't firing up for some reason and he had to change them out at 6:00am to get hot water. We almost lost a long thank you note our son wrote then we found it and accused each other of misplacing it! I'm sure he did it. I should just say I did it because he's the one who will mail them. He always goes to the post office and I don't. He's so punctual and always does the right thing. I don't know how we ended up together. I'm so opposite of him.

He took a shower and chilled out a bit. He's fast asleep now. He falls asleep in two and a half minutes. How does he do that? I lie there for hours and he snores like bear. He tells me it's his clear conscience that makes him sleep so well. Me, my conscience is going full speed ahead 24 hours a day. When I was a kid even if I wasn't guilty I looked guilty. I suffer so! Ruminations. They serve no useful purpose. My iPod pushes them away though. Works pretty good. I listen to my music - lately my Zumba routines. But then when I really want to sleep I change to a sermon my pastor gave a few years ago. I've listened to the same one so many times I can probably give parts of that sermon myself.

After A While
©1971 Veronica A. Shoffstall

After a while you learn
the subtle difference between
holding a hand and chaining a soul
and you learn
that love doesn't mean leaning
and company doesn't always mean security.

And you begin to learn
that kisses aren't contracts
and presents aren't promises
and you begin to accept your defeats
with your head up and your eyes ahead
with the grace of woman,
not the grief of a child
and you learn
to build all your roads on today
because tomorrow's ground is
too uncertain for plans
and futures have a way of falling down
in mid-flight.

After a while you learn
that even sunshine burns
if you get too much
so you plant your own garden
and decorate your own soul
instead of waiting for someone
to bring you flowers.

And you learn that you really can endure
you really are strong
you really do have worth
and you learn
and you learn
with every goodbye, you learn...


April said...

I know this poem! I don't know from where, but I love it too. But, I don't find it sad; I just think it's talking about life... y'know?


SchnauzerMom said...

Wow I really like that poem. Wise words, I think.