Back in the year 2021,
If I thought at all,
I never thought I’d still
Be writing two years hence.
Yet now in 2023.
The day begins again.
Again and again.
For others it has ended.
One can’t help wondering
When ours will also end
And there will be no new beginning.
One can’t help thinking
Of those for whom there are no more days
To look forward to.
And what they meant to us.
One can’t help thinking of all
The things left undone
And how much simpler if
The boxes and drawers of papers
Were simply piled up as trash.
After all we live on in the minds
Of those we knew, of those who knew us.
I look out the window and
It’s raining.
Washing away the thoughts of yesterday.
Making way for new thoughts
But they’ll never be the same.
Erika Bizzarri 
Erika – your poetry grows
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Hi Erika. Feeling,
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Epicurus believed that the existential problem of death must be confronted before entering his garden and seeking true happiness, not through debauchery as his term “idoni” has been mistranslated as hedonism (for who knows what reason) but through simplifying life from material pleasures and seeking happiness through love and friendship. There is also contemporary research linking fear of death with the search for power, in the illusion that this will help avoid mortality. For Epicurus, death was simply similar to the time before we were born. Meanwhile, we suffer on!
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Erika, when I awoke this morning it was raining lightly here in San Francisco. Sunday I attended the memorial of a friend that I had met and known since 1971. Four of my friends have passed just this year. My day begins again…
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Mike Shaughnessy
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Mike Shaughnessy (forgot to login first)
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Grazie Erika,
I cherish you and your writing. Life is a mystery from beginning to end.
Amore,
jhan
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Yes indeed, one can’t help thinking … I suppose that’s both the curse and the blessing of being human. Watching my son’s elderly dog I feel how much easier it is for him, but not for anything would I give up thinking!
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