It often strikes me as one of life's more bitter-sweet ironies that it's the heart in winter that focuses most on spring...
Me, I have never been as happy as the too few years I shared with my late partner a long time ago. Even so, I learned to be happy again. Oh, I have never met anyone else with whom I wanted to share my life, but I have made some good friends, found a curious peace, comfort and joy in my poetry as well as being blessed with a natural optimism to see me through. I may not be a very successful writer, but success has never meant as much to me as enjoying life in my own way. [Yes, I have prostate cancer, but have all I need to see me through that too.]
Love comes to each and every one of us in all shapes and forms; its effect on us never (quite) fades even though sometimes it may be but a visitor, passing through. The past, too, is a part of us and never forgotten, whether or not it needs to be tempered by forgiveness, nor should it ever be where it has made us happy. Ah, but it's building on that happiness, making the most of the present, each of us in our own way, and looking forward to the future that counts…no matter what.
GETTING THE BETTER OF ROCK AND HARD PLACE
I walked in a wood one winter
the trees were bare, yet so splendid,
I let my heart fall to the ground
Copyright R. N. Taber 2010; 2015