And this explains how we were. (#3)
Dear _________,
I'm not sorry to say that I don't love you anymore.
I forgive you and that is all.
Monday
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love after love
The time will come when, with elation,
you will greet yourself arriving
at your own door, in your own mirror,
and each will smile at the other's welcome,
and say
sit here. Eat.
You will love again the stranger
who was your self.
Give wine. Give bread.
Give back your heart
to itself, to the stranger who has loved you all your life...
Take down the love
letters from the bookshelf,
the photographs,
the desperate notes, peel your own image from the mirror.
Sit.
Feast on your life.
~Derek Walcott
you will greet yourself arriving
at your own door, in your own mirror,
and each will smile at the other's welcome,
and say
sit here. Eat.
You will love again the stranger
who was your self.
Give wine. Give bread.
Give back your heart
to itself, to the stranger who has loved you all your life...
Take down the love
letters from the bookshelf,
the photographs,
the desperate notes, peel your own image from the mirror.
Sit.
Feast on your life.
~Derek Walcott
bring it on back
and i am telling you..
i'm karlee. i have a husband and a daughter. (well ok, she's a puppy.) this is the world through my eyes.
2 comments:
I must inform you that I love the poem in the upper right portion. I may end up stealing it for reference in my blogs or other areas. I am rather intrigued by the sophisticated writings here (Beston and Walcott), I would even say that I am impressed KarKar. Now, is that MY old table that you are calling quaint, or is it a replica or look alike?
hahaha. is this.. can it be.. christopher??
i guess all i have to say is: it's high time you recognized.
now can i be allowed to view your blogs please?
and yes, quaint table is yours. we want the chairs too please.
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