It is good to count those moments, and days,
when life is there as a form of play,
rather than to generalise about the years.
So say I, through laughter and through tears
intermittently.
'Say I', I say -
untrue; for today
that piece of wisdom
imparted from a friend
who sits in a kingdom
whose life does not bend
except for the better,
and entirely sans fetter
of love, of friendship, of openness
and all of those things to which I aspire.
Of all of those things
of which no person should tire.
Oh... how I admire that ability
to be a 'just me'
from day to day:
perhaps (just perhaps)
it may come some day.
Eggshells, rollercoasters, walking on dust.
Laughing 'til the tears come, as they invariably must.
Count and enjoy the moments, the days;
they are not, alas, always here to stay;
'Carpe Diem', is another approach, I feel.
And yet... there is, just perhaps, always still
the capacity to grudge, to resent, to withold....
Unless by a good friend one is finally told
to remember the moments, the days and the hours,
when the loving, and living, and laughter was ours.
Tara Sloblock (like Danny, Banned from PH)
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/counting-7/
