Creation of Ourselves …by Hannah Coffin

The loss of a favorite childhood dog taken too soon,

Buried under a solemn weeping willow;

Someday to be forgotten for something seemingly more blissful.

Summer teenage nights filled with wonder and excitement,

Yet the next day the false magic fades to reality.

The finding of ourselves.

A first love filled with sweet, tender innocence,

Insatiable pain when that love ends forever.

Pain turns to bitterness towards him.

Bitterness to anger. Anger finally gives way to hate.

The hot tears flow fresh, fast and unstoppable;

The building of ourselves.

Fresh paper, pens and books,

Everything here is new, strange and refreshing.

Seeing ideas in a new and unusual light;

The chance to break free and escape,

Old hurts melt away as bright ideas are embraced.

The finding of ourselves.

Freedom’s new feel when finally leaving home,

Wanting just to have a place to call your own.

Searching, longing and waiting. Closing the deal and getting the key,

First night spent unpacking happily in the new place;

Excitement wearing off at the sign of the first bill.

The building of ourselves.

The one to spend forever with; he will still be there in fifty years.

The heart stopping moment he drops to one knee.

Something old, something borrowed and something blue,

A nerve-wracking trip down the aisle of a little stone church.

Tear filled and joyful moment of “I do”,

The finding of our other half.

Fifty years have come and gone.

The children have all grown and left for new lives,

The greys have taken up residence,

Events in the past are seen through the window of wisdom.

Day after day it becomes more obvious,

The building process is never complete.

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Explore posts in the same categories: growing older, Memories

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