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 Pages Of A Woman's Soul

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SO CALL ME AN OPTIMIST


Raindrop kisses glisten
on the tips of the evergreen boughs
just outside my window;
bright, shining rainbow explosions
clinging to my heart.

Somehow I feel we are much the same,
those raindrops and I –
stubbornly we cling to a life
meant to sparkle,
despite the heat
that invariably comes,
tending to evaporate
hope into
mist.

Dancing in the sunlight,
swaying with the breeze,
tiny baubles of joy in
prismatic refraction
bounce around in
my soul…
so many hues
to life,
so much life
to live…

And so we remain.

Oblivious by choice
to the crucible
so near;
why not?

So laugh
if you must
as you call me
an optimist...
the raindrops and I
will twirl in tandem
to the melody your
merriment provides.

Even if I be
as short-lived as
liquid sunshine,
undeterred I choose
to shimmer,
to keep
my sanctity
intact and become
a ray of light,
to illuminate
in this
life…

…and on into
the next.

Yes,
an eternal
optimist
am I.


K. Tate Jacoby
copyright January 18, 2010

        
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