After a while
By Veronica Shoffstall
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 always 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 ahead
with the grace of 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 own garden
and decorate your own soul
instead of waiting for someone
to bring you flowers.
And you learn that you really can endure
you really are strong
you really do have worth
and you learn
and you learn
with every goodbye, you learn…
I found this poem in an Ann Landers column in the 1970s. I still have the clipping. It was around the same time that I had my first crush and was crushed. I also bought my first marble notebook for the purpose of writing down my thoughts and feelings. (I am still partial to college-ruled marble notebooks.) This poem somehow lessened the adolescent anguish I felt and put relationships of all sorts in perspective for me. And life in general, really. I suspect it also inspired my first forays into writing poetry...although given the number of sonnets I wrote, someone else was of greater import to me. So there I was, here I am, full of sound and fury, signfiying nothing.