One afternoon in therapy
Eternally emerging,
from what I was
into what, I don’t know.
There were times I thought I knew.
Then there were times I thought I knew nothing,
but actually did know something.
Some days it was ‘Yes.’
Other days ‘No.’
And other days, ‘Maybe.’
Contradiction.
Paradox.
Unsettled.
Nothing gone from ourselves
is gone forever.
Knowing too much? Oh sure.
What do I lack? Nothing but that ‘one thing’
(I thought I would find it in The Moody Blues).
Or do I have too much of one thing,
not enough of another?
I have a reservoir of love, sure,
everyone says so.
(Who cares what everyone says, right?)
Or are they full of crap?
Tomorrow I’ll see a world differently,
or a different world,
small as they both are.
As always, there is tomorrow.
from: After All the Years of Gravity
Unpub. MS p. 3
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