Archive 05/30/09 - (1)

   

The My Life

                                                                  

This quiet Saturday night,

I toast myself, with a providential l'chaim,

Give thanks for my health and for just being alive.

 

I so appreciate these evenings,

When the entire time belongs to me alone —

An interlude between the day's dizzy busyness and sleep,

 

A sweet caesura separating my two selves:

The mind that analyzes what's right before its eyes

And the psyche that dreams of distant possibilities.

 

Rarely do I find these occasions empty.

Quite the salutary contrary,

They bequeath me the opportunity to get to know myself,

 

Know my soul better and better,

For probing territories I never conceived even existed,

Let alone considered exploring.

 

And when I finish reflecting on fleeting essences,

Casting chimerical nemeses

Into forgetting's depths, memory's cluttered miasmas,

 

I always tilt my l'chaim wineglass

One time more,

And make a final toast to who I was, am, and will be.

 

 

 

 

 

 

05/30/09 - (1)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
 
 
 
 
       

 

 
   
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