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Some Thoughts I Write To Leave Behind

Morning-meadow Jones

Will come a time I’ll be dead and gone 

And my children will live on

I put some things aside for them

Mostly the things are thoughts

Converted to lines of characters

Saved to hard drive folders, files

Stashed in the back of sock drawers

For descendants yet to come

Because there are things I want to tell them 

Things that might be helpful to know Stuff 

like


There’s no such thing as Good Old Days 

Though happy memories possess real power 

Seriously, take the time to store some up 

They’re important for survival

We sip sustenance from those steam-sealed jars 

Of sweet recollection

On dreary days of drought and doubt 

When honey is hard to come by

However, it’s also true that


The very best day is the present day

The one that’s got you in it

It’s the only day in which you have power to act

So take action, make the day good, and live 

it And another thing


You’re allowed to dislike me and despise my decisions 

Half the time I didn’t know what I was doing The 

other half I thought I did

Then found I was mistaken

But maybe it’s ok to have a human ancestor 

Instead of some exalted hero

Perhaps sometimes you’ll be uncertain about things 

Or mess up just like I did

If so, it may come as a comfort

To realize perfection’s over-rated

I arrived in this world knowing zip

A complete beginner, a newb

I learned stuff from my parents

And the society I was born into

Lots of it was beautiful

Especially things from Mom and Dad

But let’s face it


Some of it was pure poison

Please understand

My parents didn’t hurt me purposely

They did their very best, considering

Their parents poisoned them

That’s how the generations go

Each one toiling at our task

Reaping crops we didn’t sow

Harvesting aftermath of megalomaniacs 

Mercenary merchants, twisted teachers 

Who planted pernicious pride and lies

In seasons centuries before us

It’s a constant process of plucking out

Reclaiming space for seeds of our choosing 

Just remember to pull it up by the roots Dig 

it out deep, or that mess grows back 

Anyway


Despite the noxious poison

Despite the existential pain

The limitations of my ignorance

The humiliation of my incompetence

The private double agony

Of mediocrity and shame

Still I’ve made a life, I’ve loved people 

And many loved me back

And I’ve seen a shimmering sheet of rain sweep 

Down a mountain like a gauzy curtain being drawn 

I’ve seen frost-lace woven upon window panes 

And dust motes dancing at sunbeam balls I’ve seen 

a cluster of glorious orange flowers grow From a 

single, shrivelled seed

I once sang a song just to make an old man smile

I’ve comforted a child who wanted only me 

And I felt


Both so puny and so powerful in that moment 

Because they wanted only me

And my kiss could heal a bleeding 

wound And my voice could make dreams 

sweet My embrace could stop the world

From spinning around too fast

Creating calm complete

What I mean is that

It’s possible to have a joyful life

Living by the skin of your teeth

And really, what I’m most proud of 

The    most    amazing,    wonderful 

thing Is you


Somehow (How?) despite my 

shortcomings Life bestowed this precious 

gift

A small role in the sacred summoning 

That set in motion your soul’s birth 

You are so magnificent

You’re remarkable

You are splendid

You’re a brilliant, blazing star

Child, I’m dazzled by your awesome light 

Even seeing you from afar

About the Author

Morning-meadow Jones is an American junior high school dropout, who later went on to realize her full potential and drop out of college too. She's a mother, migrant, and memoirist, writing from her home in Wales, UK. When not parenting or penning prose, she enjoys picking her ancestors’ pockets, pilfering their old ticket stubs and true stories.

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