What a dull title for a post, I know, and this post is going to be rather slow for those looking for pictures of hot sex (although how often do I post those kinds of pics anyway?) but I’m back in NYC for a few days – a quick trip that includes business meetings and time with friends and their new babies – and one of the things I try to do when I’m here presently, is clean out more of my past. While digging through my drawers at home I found a poem I transcribed when I was in high school. Something about it struck me then, and I wrote it in marker, black and rainbow color, on a piece of white 8 1/2 by 11 inch paper, taking a lot of time to make it look nice. While I had the author as anon, a google search brought up the name Veronica Shoffstall. I’m retyping it here, because I still find huge meaning in the words. It reminds me, as I’m on the brink of reconnecting with past loves, that no matter what ends, there’s always something ready to begin.

Here goes…

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 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 open
With the grace of a 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…
That you really are strong,
And you really do have worth.
And you learn and learn…
With every goodbye you learn.