Note to Self:

Thursday, March 31, 2016

The Gift.


The Gift
Another Spring
Plants push up
Through the cold damp soil
They just know when it is time
To push, and flower
And I think of all the springs I've seen
Pushed and flowered through
(And sometimes struggled through)
And I think of all the people
Who've been in my life
And I in theirs
Drifting in and drifting out
And it's odd, at mid-life
To have more years behind
Than in front
But that's okay
The years behind me
Live in me
And those ahead do not yet exist
The past is just that
Past
The future is unwritten
A blank slate
For each one of us
Like a flower
Dormant after a long winter
The winter of yesterday
We get to push through
And reach for the sun
Each day
Everyday
Pushing though
Reaching
Living
What we have is now
That is the gift
Now is the gift

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