The good times we never had but should have, the pleasantries I endured waiting for the pleasure. I remembered your potential with fondness. The days, weeks and years I waited for you to grow to me have passed, and yet--- time is what I have, not you. Hope is a wonderful thing until it turns on me and bites. Images I built have tumbled and colors wash from your portrait. I carefully remind myself it’s the idea of you I miss, not you.
Practice your manners on yourself.
The longer on the river I am
the less I fear the river.
I still don’t know what lay ahead,
anything may wait for me
just around the next bend,
but I fear this less and less.
Experience is a great foundation
no matter what you are building
or in which direction.
I’ve gotten my sea-legs,
a sure sign of the mind cooperating
with the realities the body is experiencing.
I have learned to avoid some forms of trouble
and anticipate fortune more often.
Further on could be a waterfall, ocean or dam;
I will contend with any or all, come what may,
for when it comes to riding the river
I have learned the most important thing: I
don’t need to push.