Happiness is a warm keyboard=I live to and love to write

The box was pushed back upon the highest shelf, untouched for decades and gathering dust. I had long ago forgotten it existed. To see it again and feel the memories return from yesterday lost… I was overwhelmed. I sat upon the floor and carefully took out each memento. Year book, pictures, love letters and under all…some old youthful musings in foolish rhyming syntax. Precious thoughts and wishful dreams to be a writer, as I read those old poems and essays sunshine poured upon my youth and filtered through...shining on today.

Was I any good? Reading over the writings …I was too naïve. My poetry was without depth but it was heartbreakingly honest in its naïveté. In that moment, I rediscovered myself and in seeing my young self before me acknowledged my world had grown but the heart of my dreams had not.

I took those old poems and wanted to change the sappy contents of some but held off.

This was who I was, a reminder of a rose colored world I thought existed and it was a pleasure to remember those days and I would not rewrite these moments or change the silly rhyme… they were timeless and I embraced them.

We all have a place we begin, notions and convictions set in our earliest days. The first tentative steps we take into our life form opinions we carry forever. We may not acknowledge those youthful passions but they color our world through all the days to follow...I may no longer think as I did at seventeen but I think my younger self would be proud of where we are going anyway.

Sitting in a dust covered corner… reliving happy youthful abandonment…laughing...Crying ...and freeing myself to enjoy it.

Thanks for listening