The bridges you cross today
pave the roads you walk
tomorrow.
The decisions you make
are the baggage you take
on the road.
You’ve got more to lose
in the things you choose
than in all your good intentions
And the sky at night
has enough light
to carry its own load.

Wendy c.1998

Yesterday while cleaning up some things and organizing others I came across a lot of poetry/writing that I saved over the years. Mostly on loose scraps of paper, it’s a wonder I have as much as I do and that more was not lost in the moves I’ve made since writing them.

Lots of letters/ journal entries written to myself; attempts at trying to reassure myself that I would remember the thing later in life. I suppose I subconsciously knew that I wouldn’t forever be where I was, that eventually time would change things.

Moreover, I find that some sort of odd optimism exists in the writing. Often, I’m a bit amazed at the things I wrote. The foresight to write down what I was doing and what was happening so I would remember more precisely how I felt is kind of a relief, knowing I had hope.

I like this poem. The lyrical-ness of the flow is somewhat comforting to me.

Circa 1998, I was in Alabama and most likely wrote this right before marrying again. I found several ‘letters’ to myself describing my disquietude at marrying this man. It wasn’t because I was fearful of him, I had no reason to be, he was very good to me and my kids. But somewhere inside me, I suppose I knew it wasn’t exactly the thing I should be doing; and yet, I did it anyway. I suspect I was searching for self-assurance that I could handle whatever came of the decisions I made and that those things I couldn’t control would take care of themselves.

Tough thing to remember, that. I still have to remind myself of those things.