Saturday, December 26, 2009

Dear Life

This poem was written by Erin of the In Through the Back Door blog

what it is about

it is to stop
and recognize

what is passing
that is what writing is about

i could live a thousand years
but to live them
and have them pass
as highway beneath my ass
without ever looking

that would mean nothing

or i could live one day

on a hill
and touch the grass
and watch the sky

and look upon the birds
and feel the breeze
and touch my breast
and then to write of that
-that one day-

that would amount to more
than the thousand years




Woman in a Window said...

thank you, you~

and are your holidays good? i hope so.
best to you and yours,

jinksy said...

The photo you paired with erin's words manages ot capture the timeless feel extraordinarily well; transient clouds passing over a landscape as old as...the hills! lol :)

Madison said...

Erin is a very good writer. That's a keeper.

Jason said...

You have a great blog here. It's a very interesting read. I have a blog myself which provides inspiration and guidance to people all around the world. Life is hard enough, and I'm hoping for my blog to be a place where people can go to hear the words the words they need to hear in order to brighten up their day.

I'd like to exchange links with you to help spread some traffic around. Please let me know if this is possible.


Kay said...


Pouty Lips said...

Erin, Thanks for your inspiration this past year.

Jinksy: I like your reasons for the photo choice better than mine. I chose it because it looks like a light is coming on behind the clourd.

Madison: Great, aye?

Jason: No thanks. You must not have noticed I don't have a blog roll on this blog. I prefer to showcase the bloggers I choose in my posts.

Kay: Yipper!

Mama Zen said...

Erin is brilliant, isn't she?

Pinkerbell said...

Oh wow, I can see why this poem meant so much to you! It's very timely for me too, I've been pondering quite what it is that I will have achieved and what I will leave behind when I'm gone from this place. The thought scares me that I won't leave a dent, at least if I perfect the art of poetry (as much as I'm able anyway) then I can leave some writings behind. That's a comfort, of course life is all in the way you live it, not how long you live it. You don't get many points for endurance. Thanks Pouty x