a tale of tails, tenacity, and tedium, as told by me, usually barefoot and bellowing

Friday, July 18, 2014

I Met Another Me

She laughed often
Cried easily
Loved the days more

Following her dreams
She wore paint on her clothing
From masterpieces
Along with horse hair

Her journal was filled
With magic
Words
And sketches

Meeting her
She asked.
"Why not you?"
I could only cry
For Fireblossom Friday at Imaginary Garden With Real Toads

22 comments:

Sandra said...

cry away, crying is the outlet for the soul. god gave us tears for a reason, we need them...

Linda Kay Christensen said...

What a lovely thought. My son-in-law's mother is a free spirit, and I am envious of her ability to be in the moment. She is now 76, five feet tall, drives a King Ranch Truck that she has to climb into, and packs a pistol in the glove box!

Sandy said...

Beautifully written, and beautiful horses.

Arushi Ahuja said...

Gail, beautiful a little sad in the end but i loved it....

Farm Girl said...

Beautifully written. You have such lovely poetry Gail.

Magaly Guerrero said...

I LOVE the last line. How they admire and seem to want to be the other (or at least wonder why not). Those were good tears, methinks. Cry that says, she is who she is and if she was another she would still wonder...

Susan said...

Oh! May the tears be cleansing, and new eyes see the reality of wholeness and creativity.

hedgewitch said...

That moment of looking inward to see what we surely could be but aren't is one of the most painful ever, well-described here.

Karen S. said...

Oh gee I like the you I already have come to know, here, and I even like the other you as well! A sweet photo too!

Sketching with Dogs said...

So lovely, I think this poem is my new favourite!
Lynne x

Irene said...

But that is you, isn't it? You could have fooled me if it's not.

Sherry Blue Sky said...

I thought that, too, that the other you is the today-you! I love that beautiful photo of the horses, such a beautiful white baby!

Jim said...

I loved reading this one, Gail. It is a dream some of us have quite often, especially as we get older. Often I try to find on the Social Media old friends, either sex. I have failed except for the blogging friends I already have.

Did you think that perhaps you friend is a bit envious of the life your live?

Your horse is soooo pretty. I am glad he/she is on good terms with the goat.
..

Henny Penny said...

If you met another you, that would be you. I think. Right? Very touching.

LindaG said...

Aw. :-(

*hugs* ♥

Hannah said...

This is so sad...for me it feels like this other you is there and longs to breathe freely without constraints...beautiful writing.

Saucy Kodz said...

A journal of life and love, her clothing a masterpiece of time well spent - well done Gail
p.s. I had a sweet giggle with Linda Kay's comment and that just made me feel good :)

Susie Clevenger said...

Crying for me is cleansing...Such a beautiful piece

Kerry O'Connor said...

This is a sad revelation, Gail. I sense that you still have a bucket list of things you hope to accomplish. And why not?

Fireblossom said...

Why not you, indeed! We are capable of more than we give ourselves credit for, oftentimes.

Thanks for being part of my challenge!

Helen said...

Gail, your poem is intimate .. revealing. I like the you I know.

Lynne said...

This one told me you . . . I liked, sad, but I liked . . .

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