In the past couple of days I’ve gotten up uncharacteristically early, which is one of the bright sides of things not going according to plan. I’d forgotten – or lost sight of, really – how beautiful early morning light is and how whole I feel when I’ve gotten things done before 9AM. I’d like to continue on this path but for the right reasons.
Yesterday morning as I was walking L, what I thought was a song lyric popped into my head. It dawned on me that it was actually something I wrote – and then I was horrified by the realization that I’d inadvertently quoted myself. As I like to say … never mind.
Of course I’ll share it; I wouldn’t have brought it up if I wasn’t planning to. And while I would love to offer all my usual disclaimers and “It’s really unpolished”s and “it’s kind of embarrassing”s and “don’t look at me while I read it”s and “never mind I’ll just send it to you”s, I shall refrain. (see what I did there?) It was from an assignment I gave myself some years ago to write a sonnet – in the Shakespearean rhyme scheme, versus the Petrarchian, from whence springs the name of this blahhhhhhgggggg. The scheme is abab/cdcd/efef/gg … the last six lines of the one I did, written to no one in particular – it was an invented protag talking to an invented lover – went something like this. Actually went exactly like this: No matter how the pages will unfold/this was never lost or wasted time/look back upon these days when you grow old/and know our love, though fleeting, was sublime/A stubborn silver clings onto the night/I’ll always miss the early morning light.
I don’t know – I think it’s kind of pretty – but maybe it’s all kind of other derogatory words whose definitions I vaguely know.
It’s only by forgiving ourselves mistakes we’ve made that we can move forward. Not always easy to do, but necessary. So necessary. To err is human. Painfully so. To forgive can also be human.
I have big, productive plans for this weekend where writing is concerned. Huge ones.