On the other side of a mirror there's an inverse world, where the in-
sane go sane; where bones climb out of the earth and recede to the first
slime of love.
And in the evening the sun is just rising.
Lovers cry because they are a day younger, and soon childhood robs
them of their pleasure.
In such a world there is much sadness which, of course, is joy...
I got this poem from Writer's Almanac today. I'm not sure why I like it, but it seems like these things already exist- particularly the sadness which is really joy. Opposites seem circular- like they are so far apart that they somehow meet and merge.
In Wally Lamb's book (the name of Which I have forgotten- ask Tara, I gave it to her for Christmas a while back... it's about twins and about accepting what life has given you) he says- "God is found inthe roundness of things." and I think that's true. Endings are all really beginnings and sadness can really be joy. It's only in books and movies that there can be a happily-ever-after, or a true tragedy. In the real world there isn't an end or a beginning to anything- it is all one long story- like one great tide.
Life is a haptic monster- familiar, yet unfamiliar; dear, yet grotesque; we cling to it, though it can be cruel.My story began with my grandmother's story and hers began with her grandmother's, and mine will only end if nothing I ever do ever impacts anyone in any way.
Okay- maybe a little too deep today...
Our Christmas tree went up last night, and Josh and I ate Birthday cake and shopped for a bookshelf. I love my husband.
By the way, there is an opossum (do you use AN for words where the vowel at the beginning of the word is actually silent?) living in our backyard. It freaked me out the other night. I pulled into the driveway and it was just sitting there starting at me...Those things are truly ugly.