I Am Nowhere Near My Last Bloom

For my writing group (which meets tomorrow night), it was my job to come up with the prompts for this week. I can't lie, they were not conjured from my imagination (as they usually are) but, rather, chosen after I googled "writing prompts". One of them was to choose the final line of a previous piece of writing or journal entry and to use that as the opening of the new piece. Suffice it to say, that's the prompt I chose. I ended a poem with the title of this one some time in 2014 and the line grabbed me now, as it did then. If you're curious, read on. If you enjoy what you read, I'd love it if you'd follow this blog (and join the HUGE group of roughly thirty like-minded folks who already have). If not, that's cool, too. 

I am nowhere near

my last bloom.

Fuck sorrow and fear.

There is no room for them

in my life anymore.

Of course

I am real.

I feel the pair. 

In my humble opinion

more than my fair share.

I cannot help but care

even about those

who do not deserve

my mind

my heart

my time.

I am not blind.

I recognize

when I am told lies

although sometimes

they take me by surprise.

I tend to trust

far too often

and for far too long

but damn it

this is not my swan song.

In spite of my open heart

and easily mislead mind

I find a way to get along.

Thank you

to those who love me

and thank you 

to those who lie.

Thank you

to those who support me

and thank you

to those who make me cry.

It is because of you

that I am strong

and know right from wrong.

This is not my swan song.

I am nowhere near

my last bloom

not when there is still 

so much room

to grow

and thrive

and be alive.