As a writer I find it hard to not look back at my old notes and poems and re-hash them. Instead of publishing my new words.
Is it easier to be more familiar with our old ‘self’ and ‘experience’, because the new parts of us are so ‘new’ – so we don’t admire them with the same depth perhaps, don’t know them so well.
But until we explore them – I guess we will never get to know them, or grow into them.
Here is something that bubbled up last weekend and ended up amongst my Shanti Bee notes.
Evocative Self
I believe I’m some of everyone,
I’ve ever loved,
Ever seen,
Those I’ve known.
All the dreams residing in my soul,
Growing old.
Capturing the kisses,
To,
Set them free,
Some stay within.
Understanding truths,
Of the unknown.
True love,
Won’t you wait a while longer,
Within me,
You’re the freedom,
Tickling my toes.
My bold heart feels,
The pain of every leap,
Life takes,
Each peel,
All the mystery,
Grown.
Holding my own.
It is in,
The tender births,
We can discover,
What we know.
Experience comes,
And reassures us,
We can grow,
We can grow.
Rosie Mason x