Friday - 03/12/2021 — I’m always in awe of people like my friend Geri Taran who manages to hold within her head every poem she’s ever written. I, on the other hand, forget mine almost as soon as they’re on paper.
That’s why it’s such a pleasant surprise to come across a page stuck in an old notebook that holds this poem, Mirror Image, that I can’t even recall having written.
There’s such a vast difference between these two viewpoints. The first one shows where I was in my late forties, when there was no thought of any sort of radiance. The second one after I finally grew up. There’s a much bigger story, of course, and maybe I’ll share it with you in a couple of weeks.
My children were what kept me going back then, back in the 90s. Radiant love of life (rather than just hanging on) is—I assure you—a much better place to be in.
