Epiphany
Epiphany
Today, with nothing else to do
I thought to dig through the trash heap of a wasted life.
I scraped aside memories;
scraps of torn and faded photographs,
forgotten promises,
mistakes, disappointments,
wrong turns, and disillusion.
Epiphany, they say, is understanding,
so when I found, in the trash,
still living, breathing pieces of myself,
it was an epiphany of sorts.
Carefully, I scraped the scraps together
and fitted them like a puzzle
until I met with me again,
the way I was—the who I was.
Can I keep them, those precious pieces?
Can I go home again,
be who I was again?
Can I do now
the things I pushed aside then
because I was too busy pleasing others,
living their lives instead of mine?
Will the she I was take my hand
and lead me once again into her world,
give me that second chance
to feel the sunshine upon my face,
the wind in my hair
and the exercise my legs require, or
have the years piled up so fast
that the she that was is but a memory
to fade in time as the pieces flutter once again
onto the trash heap of my life?
Vi Jones
©May 31, 2006
posted by Vi Jones @ 7:50 AM
3 comments
The 
3 Comments:
"I thought to dig through the trash heap of a wasted life." Vi, no life is ever a wasted life. If you do nothing more than grace the world with a poem, then it is not a waste at all.
I love your writing.
Thank you all for your comments. Our lives are made up of chapters, just like a good book. It's revealing to read the book to see where we have been, and to perhaps learn from whence we gained our knowledge.
Vi
Our lives are made up of chapters Vi and not all is as as it seems. Most experiences can be recycled usefully rather than ending on the trash heap.
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