You Learn

You Learn

After a while you learn the subtle difference

Between holding a hand and chaining a soul, 

And you learn that love doesn’t mean leaning

And company doesn’t mean security. 

And you begin to learn that kisses aren’t contracts

And presents aren’t promises, 

And you begin to accept your defeats

With your head up and your eyes open

With the grace of a woman, not the grief of a child,

And you learn to build all your roads on today

Because tomorrow’s ground is too uncertain for plans

And futures have a way of falling down in mid-flight.

After a while you learn…

That even sunshine burns if you get too much. 

So you plant your garden and decorate your own soul,

Instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers. 

And you learn that you really can endure…

That you really are strong

And you really do have worth… 

And you learn and learn…

With every good-bye you learn.

 {…}

“A writer – and, I believe, generally all persons – must think that whatever happens to him or her is a resource. All things have been given to us for a purpose, and an artist must feel this more intensely. All that happens to us, including our humiliations, our misfortunes, our embarrassments, all is given to us as raw material, as clay, so that we may shape our art.” ~ Jorge Luis Borges