Bidding Adieu

Well, that's a misleading title.  I am just now returning to the blog, not bidding adieu.  But that's the title of the poem I'm planning to post.

It's been a long time since I've written here.  It's not that I haven't been writing.  In fact, I'm on my second go-round with Deena Metzger's Writing for Your Life.  I don't know why it took me so long to get to this book.  I love Deena's work (and in fact I'll be going to a workshop with her in a few months), and this book is wonderfully inspiring for writers.  I've been flagging pieces that I'd like to do more with, and I realized recently that blogging is a good way to do that.  In fact, working here may be the only way I actually get back to them.

So, here's my piece for today, Bidding Adieu.

Here is the thing.

I am afraid to be happy.

There, I’ve said it.

If I allow happiness in,

I will lose it.

This life is one of change.

Happiness now means

Sorrow is coming.

Where did I learn this attitude,

This diminishment of life?

Here, in the middle of my seventh decade,

I cling – despite myself -

To this entrenched belief.

I remember - years ago –

Studying the romantic poets, and

Being struck by Keats’ line:

“And Joy, whose hand is ever at his lips, bidding adieu.”

At the time I thought -

“Yes!  Yes!  That’s it!”

But the logic that must follow –

(And the thought I never entertained) is -

Sadness, also, has hand at her lips, ever bidding adieu.

Now I long to be unafraid

Of both joy and sorrow.

To deny one

Is to deny both.

I plead with myself -

Let’s accept happiness now.

Sorrow will come regardless, and

Time is short.