Sunday, June 12, 2011

Y for yesterday

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, despite my snail like tendencies, I do endeavour to keep as many promises as I can, and I know full well that I still owe you blog readers of mine a few missing posts from the A to Z April Challenge (it's already JUNE! *wails*) so wherever possible I will attempt to fill in the gaps.

For this post, I take on one of the more obscure and yet formidable of  alphabets: the letter Y.

I spent most of my evening and night today clearing out and sorting my stationery drawer in my bedroom. In the process, I uncovered various treasures and memories from yesteryears - some of which I fondly recall, others which I don't even remember at all.

It's so easy to leave our yesterdays behind, and to forget all too quickly the value they have added to our lives and the lessons we have learned and should remember at the right times in our present days (so as not to repeat the same old mistakes).

One thing I especially cherished about my past was the ability I had back then to write poetry. That is not to say that I can't muster up a verse or so now, but it's not quite the same, or as somewhat prolific as I was in times past.

Perhaps it had something to do with the turmoil of youth? One thing's for sure, now that I'm in my late twenties, I am a whole lot more secure about who I am and who I am not than I was in the not-too-distant teenage years of my life. I recall the intensity of emotions back then were quite often the reason I turned to poetry.

I wonder what does it say of me now, though... Does this mean I have lost the ability to appreciate and come to grips with my emotions (and to deal with them accordingly) as I had during those times? I find myself less composed and more impatient now (surprisingly) than I remember being in those years.

I wonder if it has anything to do with me venting through poetry or rather, the lack of it, as this is something which I don't do at all nowadays.

Maybe it's time I revisited the habit of poetry writing. Hopefully this time, the depth in the thoughts and the themes will resonate with a greater sense of maturity than what they used to. That it will be an onward march into better quality poems that I can proudly share with everyone else around me, as opposed to having to feel sheepish about how they were written or how they sound.

Anyhow, I will share with you an old poem which I found today as I conclude this post. Hope you like it.


Sometimes in a stranger's kindness
Or in the fading flower's beauty
At other times amidst great chaos
And sudden calamity
For some in peace and quietness
From contentment and tranquility
Often unveiled for pure innocence
Yet occasionally afforded despite shame and adverse blasphemy
The beauty in the ever present sky
The promise of another day
Ever lingering hope
At times disregarded
Irritably forsaken along the way
But heavenbound hearts cannot be dampened
And faith not so easily strayed
Whenever time is salvaged
And still enough for comtemplated wonder
Room for just a tiny glance
Glimpses into the beckoning eternity

1 October 2005


Cathy Webster (Olliffe) said...

Beautiful poem, truly. You should definitely try your hand at it again. You're probably just rusty and afraid to stretch your writing muscles.
A friend of mine set herself a challenge of writing one poem every day for a month... and all different kinds of poems. She learned so much in the process and her poetry got better and better.
Google Laurita Miller or Calling Shotgun, if you like, to see her blog, then search for poetry month.

Susanna said...

Hi Cathy, thanks for the compliment and the encouragement. I will surely look her (Laurita Miller) up and give my poetry writing another go :)