Address

Address

It feels sudden, suddenly, and overwhelming,

when I hear the brakes of the truck
as it backs in, to load up my past,
to transport my life until now.
I feel both jolts of clarity, and of reality, 
going straight to my heart,
having been consumed, for so long,
by the why, as much as the how.

Two decades of possessions, one of mixed emotions,

accumulation, and memories,
sometimes, that seemed so right,
that somehow, slowly, seemed wrong.
Strangers, gathering up all that I have,
packing up all of the years,
carrying them out the door,
and then moving them along.


I think, eventually, or soon, I will find out

that this was a momentous day.
When I finally get to breathe, 
and to slow things down, and to have a look.
I will see a vital and necessary step
on the way back to me.
I will recognize another pivotal and decisive stride
that I bravely undertook.

Soon enough, I will remember all that is so very good.
I will be sitting, and settled, in my new home.
Unconstrained. With the rest of my life before me.
 And those I love will be knocking at my door.
As always, I will graciously welcome them in.
To them, only my address will have changed.
They’ve all been here with me, my entire way.
Each arrives, carrying the same love as before.

Consolation

Wine comes in at the mouth
And love comes in at the eye.
That’s all we shall know for truth
Before we grow old and die.
I lift the glass to my mouth.
I look at you, and I sigh.
William Butler Yeats – A Drinking Song (1915)

 


Consolation

Just me, alone,
raising my glass to you…

 It was eight years ago today.
I remember the exact conversation,
just as I clearly remember the date.
“We both have the same sensibility, I said.
We’re like a fun young old couple, you and I.
It’s really just a shame
that I was born fifteen years too early
and you was born fifteen years too late.” 

It was our last night together.
You were moving away soon after,
so I said good-bye then, rather than wait.
You responded, with barely a hesitation.
“You know that I never cared about that.
We were great together.
The real shame, for us, is
we were both born a hundred years too late.”


So here’s a toast,
to being an old soul.
A toast,
to being young at heart.
A glass raised,
to being both.
To
the end.
And to the start.

 

When day begins to break
I count my good and bad,
Being wakeful for her sake,
Remembering what she had,
What eagle look still shows,
While up from my heart’s root
So great a sweetness flows
I shake from head to foot.
W.B.Y. – Friends (1915)

 

 

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