Proving Montaigne Wrong...

Mood: poetic Song: "Auld Lange Syne" For Miriam on her 26th Birthday Tuesday’s Children A poem in terza rima In Southern California, halcyon days Were swept away before November gusts And she emerged, fresh soul with ancient gaze. Rough diamond, all her brightness yet untried, Her middle name revealed the heart within: The “Grace” to cast all bitterness aside. She grew, fair child who learned to face the wind And gained compassion through the steeper path By loving those whose youth would never end. A firstborn girl, in books she found her ease And trained to hear the music of the spheres With hours perfecting notes on ivory keys At sixteen years she followed study’s muse But questioned views her parents had endorsed And sought the truth she’d need to freely choose. Another girl first struggled to draw breath Mere months after the other child appeared But life for her would take a separate path. In deepest summer haze she ventured forth The only child of a gambling man She wandered long before she found true north. That heart was youthful, even as her name; Her eyes saw farthest when they turned within A mind where wisdom early staked a claim. She grew, strong child who weathered desert blaze And scorned compassion when it was unjust. Her time was measured out in ordered ways. This firstborn girl was steeped in history; In antique texts she sought the only One With power to transmute pain to bright glory. For eighteen years the earth traversed its course And these twin souls remained in ignorance That they’d become each other’s sharpening force. Yet like will evermore call out to like And bonds of iron finally were forged To make one heart that beat in bodies twain.