I’m still learning.
—Michelangelo, on his deathbed
Sometimes I feel as if
I missed something.
Something big. The sermon
that would forge a love affair
with the divine.
The history lesson
that would teach me
how to forgive myself.
The webinar that would train
me in doing the right thing
at the right time. If only
I had read the right book
or met the right coach
or drunk the right tea. If only.
I don’t believe it, not really,
though sometimes
I wish it were as easy
as auditing a class.
Perhaps that is why
I write poems.
I’m taking notes.
Because sometimes
the truth slips into them.
Because it’s surprisingly easy
to forget.
Wow! This is wonderful and very relatable. These words also speak to my soul! It is true: the truth is very easy to be forgotten
Yes! How often I think I have a glimpse of something true. And how often it eludes me. Hugs to you.
I know I’ve definitely been there many many times
We’re in together, Sir Charles
Indeed! Writing poems highly conducive to getting to the essence of what’s swirling all around. Next time I’m asked why I write poetry, I’ll hold this up & grin.
sweet you, thanks Jazz … we’ll take notes for each other. xo
The truth us sometimes so hard to speak but when it needs to happen it will happen.
It leaks into poems, finds its way regardless of me!
Wow!!You just got your self a new follower
Thanks! I’m so glad you’re here!
But regardless,because of you doing It and staying true to your promise we get something out of it too
Thank you, Crystal … it’s a pleasure to meet you here!
what truth—what universal truth!
um..Rosemerry…drunk, not drank.
Oh good grief! Thank you! What would I do without you!!?? Me and my weird aversion to drunk and to laid. I am so grateful!