Among the many changes in my life has been the number of people I love who no longer know me. Sometimes I pass through a stage of fire, a stage of grief or a stage of anger. But if I loved them I eventually stand on the shore and let their memory go and try and hold as little bitterness as I can manage.
I can’t manage none, I am only human and I am no saint and no one to hold herself up as an example to follow. I don’t do what I do for those who have left me bereft, for they are blissfully unaware of the destruction their turning can cause me, or you my fellow traveler on this road filled with the flotsam and detritus of many a passage, friendships broken, oaths tossed aside and vainglory for ill conceived goals and bad ends.
I do so selfishly as a shield to protect against the wind and snow and the cold times I’ve had to live through. Times where small candles of warmth from strong hearts, so freely given has kept mine from the deepest inescapable pits of despair. Ties held me back; ties of blood, of friendship, of thought, of caring, of cause.
On my road a sharp watch must be kept because a sharp eye might find their a tender shoot to guard against the cold East wind, the cold wind that would freeze the shoot and the nascent love therein. Guard her well, keep her warm until the Spring, the season of life and laughter renewed and reborn. Guard her well and in the Summer she will bear fruit to harvest in the Fall so that next Winter may pass in warmth and peace.
My Gifted Life 