Reflection

I've spent the better part of the morning shredding, sorting and filing things in my five drawer filing cabinet. I have 4 1/2 bags of shredded paper. Funny how I can't find my favorite lipstick, but would you like to see this cancelled check from 1999? It's right here. (well, was.)

Anyway, I found a folder of long-lost poetry written by me during my teen years. I wrote alot of poetry during that time, and only kept....ah, there might be 25 or so here. Typically, they are all rhyming and pretty structured. I had a thing about rhyming and often even used it during school papers...yeah, I know. Freak.

I read through them today and recall how easily it was for me to just sit down and write. How much better I felt after writing.

I'll share one with you that's not rhymed or structured (it's less embarrassing)...it's not dated, though I assume it's late 80's.

I Am

I am the wind
That sweeps the trees.
The wind that tousles a child's hair.
A wind that comes,
A wind that goes.

I am fire.
The fire that burns.
The fire that warms.
A fire to light,
A fire to extinguish.

I am the pure, wind driven snow.
As white and soft as can be.
As cold and bitter I may be.
Lightly falling,
Slowly drifting,
Melting.

I am a person,
In between these walks of nature.
A person to love.
To hate.
A person who cares.
A person who angers.
Someone special.

I am time.
Never ending.

I am beyond imagination.
I am always there.