Some days I feel as if I have lived an enchanted life and at other times I feel as if I am buried alive, laid to rest before my time. I have been lucky and unlucky in many different ways. I have greatly suffered from the sins of others, and yet I am usually surrounded by loving and magical people.
Once upon a time when I was in my twenties, I asked a co-worker about forty years older what it was like to be in her sixties. Her answer surprised me. She said, “You will see things that will fascinate and shock you. People are very interesting and you will end up in unexpected places.” Her wise reply turned out to be full of truth, and good karma.
If you knew me, you would know that I usually do what I want to do, willing to suffer any necessary consequences. I love to read, and so I became an English major. I figured that since I was paying for most of my education and had waited for such a long time to get the chance to go to to school, I and no one else would decide what I would study.
Something serendipitous must have caused me to find the work of Angela Weld Grimke, an obscure, minor poet, who years ago wrote my ambiguous, ambivalent emotions into tangible words. This beautiful poem remains in my mind like the memory of a perfectly timed epiphany. I have a better understanding of where I am at this point in this journey called life:
"Under the days"
The days fall upon me;
One by one they fall,
They are black,
They are gray.
They are white,
They are shot through with gold and fire.
They cover me,
Who will ever find me under the days?
This lovely and insightful poem reminded me that although I have been bruised by certain days, and am definitely in pain, I am not dead. Not yet. I want to keep some of the gold and fire colored leaves for their beauty, and for use in future projects. I am learning that time stops for no one.