How Honest Should We Be

There has never been a time or moment that you weren’t there. Only moments of ignorance and lack of awareness. You weren’t on my radar or a gleam in my eyes. Perhaps you were a dream that I never wanted to believe in. A dream because I didn’t believe that someone like you was out there.

It is funny in an odd sort of way. I can hear you telling me that you’ll never forgive me for not finding you sooner. I can hear you calling my name, asking why I am silent. I tell you that I don’t share my thoughts easily. I live in a world of silence because I choose to be silent. Lightning Strikes Twice

Sometimes I stare at the works of the past and consider what I see there. Stare at it and wonder what if there is a point or purpose in looking at those things, ask if they have relevance, significance and meaning.

And I come back to other words I have read, heard and remembered

John Keating: We don’t read and write poetry because it’s cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. And medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for.

And then I smile because this I understand and I know someone else who does, who remembers how it all started and dreamed as I did.

And I remember words from a very short while ago and I smile again because one New Years Eve shall come and two people will wrap their arms around each other and smile knowing that what was unexpected and seemed impossible moved from the pages of books into the reality of their lives.

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