At dVerse Merril is hosting Prosery (144 words) with an invitation to use a line from the poem ‘May Day” by Sara Teasdale: the line is – “For how can I be sure I shall see again The world on the first of May.”
dVerse Poets – Prosery – Sara Teasdale and May
Photo: the Hardy Inlet, Augusta.
“The thing about roads is that you happen upon them again.” Jill Santopolo
Only Love Passes This Way Twice
They say that a river doesn't pass twice, cannot be touched twice, only flows by once in its purest self, which is not its purest self, except for the sake of that moment in which it is truly one, never to be one in the same way again. Everything is emerging while yet everything is passing. This is, perhaps, well beyond our capacity to know, but yet it is in our capacity to feel.
And yet, this is always so difficult. For how can I be sure I shall see again the world on the first of May, when surely, like water, it shall not pass this way again? It will not be. In its purity it cannot be, as I cannot be but once. Unlike love, which is eternally, perpetually, proposing new ways to us, courting our attention as it continually passes by.
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