Day 42: A song for my beloved

by thecraftaholic


“Human happiness and human satisfaction must ultimately come from within oneself. It is wrong to expect some final satisfaction to come from money or from a computer.”

Wow, what a cool follow up from yesterday, huh? I really am practicing this, you know? To really not expect a person, place or thing to create happiness in my life. I think that’s why marriages fail so much.
You meet a person, perhaps in your early 20s….you decide to stay with him. You fall in love. Perhaps your parent’s weren’t always the best with you, but it makes the two of you closer. He comforts you when you are feeling down. You become soulmates.
You form a life together: you live together, you marry…and then true life begins. The sins of our fathers become clear. Issues are revealed. You find out habits about the person, twitches and annoyances.
Life changes. People change. Your faith may change. Your interests. But you change. Both of you do. THen one day, you look around, and you realize how drastically things have changed.
Now, two things could happen at this point. You could either
A) Decide that true happiness comes from your own being, and that love permeates all the changes that come. Love. Not the feeling, but the reality of love. Love is not flowers. Love is not romance. Romance is what happens when love begins. But true love…it’s fluid. It goes with you. It moves with you.
B) Decide that you’ve become the ever cliched “strangers” and divorce.

I use this example because it’s the perfect way of explaining what happens when you seek happiness in the state of how things are. Things ALWAYS change. People change. It’s life. Don’t base your happiness on how things are, but on how you are.

So on that note, I wanted to talk about my love of owls. I love owls. Love them. The more the better. So for a swap recently, I got a cool owl pin. I love him so much, he never leaves my jewelry box. That is, until today. I took him out. On the train. He loved it.

Here he is, sitting on the train, next to a man, who was on a very important, very loud phone call, in some foreign language.
His name, you ask? Well, as of yet, he remains unnamed! I am however, open to suggestions.

For today’s crafty endeavor, I actually got back to my creative roots and wrote a poem. I was watching “Madea’s Family Reunion” last night, and seeing Maya Angelou and watching her recite a poem at the end inspired me so much, I wrote a poem on the train, while listening to Paul Simon (circa 1966).

It’s called, A song for beloved

A Song for My Beloved

Down by the river side
you’ll find me there, waiting for you
used to you and you’re
cat and mouse ways
light brown eyes that
remind me of
Cafe Bustelo early in the morning
roosters acting as
alarm clocks
my love
I’m there, at the river
waiting for you to
tear the shroud
I was
to love you
to build with you
create with you
time and fate
it is