Sometimes I wonder why I write. And then I wonder why I blog. And then, sometimes, I get an answer.
I was poking around the blogosphere today and I stumbled a blog which linked back to here. Observant readers of Written Wind will note that I also link there, however, visiting hasn’t made the high priority list this past week. The poem for today was, for me, an answer.

Riveted

It is possible that things will not get better
than they are now, or have been known to be.
It is possible that we are past the middle now.
It is possible that we have crossed the great water
without knowing it, and stand now on the other side.
Yes: I think that we have crossed it. Now
we are being given tickets, and they are not
tickets to the show we had been thinking of,
but to a different show, clearly inferior.

Check again: it is our own name on the envelope.
The tickets are to that other show.

It is possible that we will walk out of the darkened hall
without waiting for the last act: people do.
Some people do. But it is probable
that we will stay seated in our narrow seats
all through the tedious denoument
to the unsurprising end–riveted, as it were:
spellbound by our own imperfect lives
because they are lives,
and because they are ours.
–By Robyn Sarah from A Day’s Grace

I write because poetry doesn’t stay where we put it. I write because I need to for me, to work out and say things that I think and feel and believe and notice. I blog because my writing isn’t my own, it doesn’t stay where I put it, it gets up and tries to sneak off into your lives. So, it’s easier to just give it away.
And today I needed this poem to sneak off into my life. I needed Robyn Sarah’s reminder that life isn’t always what we expect or want. And I needed the reminder that life–imperfect and unexpected, is still spellbinding, still something we all want.
Because this past week in my life hasn’t been spellbinding. It has been tough and sad and I’ve spent too much of it crying or wanting to cry. This past week hasn’t been what I expected and it hasn’t been what I wanted. But it has been my life. Mine. The tickets, or the pre-operative orders, have my name on them. Mine.
Lord, give me faith to be strong. Amen

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