August 9, 2012


One day I will no longer search for you in the endless sea of faces

One day I will discard my shroud of self pity and regret

One day my dreams will be free of you

One day you will just become someone I used to know

One day

Not yet

But one day.

I tore this poem out of a magazine in a doctors waiting room nearly three decades ago.  I remember I was sitting with my father, and once I read it, I had to have it.

I've kept this poem, all folded and creased, in a very special place for all these years.  You know, where you keep your special treasures that may not mean anything to anyone else, but so significant to you.

I don't know who wrote it, or why, and I don't want to know.  For some reason it resonated with me, and I've thought about this poem over the years in the most random places.  At the traffic lights, or while out walking or when waiting for sleep to take me.

Did the author have such a deep longing for someone, to evoke such powerful words?

Was a cherished soul lost, never to be found?

This is why it haunts me so...and that is the beautiful mystery that I love.....


Mum on the Run said...

Gotye perhaps??
:-) xx

Farmers Wifey said...

bahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhaaaaaaa he's done everything else hasn't he..

You are a crack ya heaps x

Momma@Live. Laugh. Pull your hair out said...

WOW!! LOVE this!!!!

M said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Mrs Catch said...

What gorgeous words.

Farmers Wifey said...

Thank you lovelies x

Norlin said...

It is a beautiful poem Michelle. It's sad, but poignant and the same time.

Farmers Wifey said...

I agree lovely xo

Mimsie said...

One can't help wondering if the writer ever did shed their shroud of self pity and regret. Let's hope so as one wouldn't want to go through life with those feeling imbedded deep within. The words are very profound.