How do I measure my life

‘Full moon after eclipse’ – yamabuki
Reading another poets words
Brings this question to my mind
Sending me backwards
To the many pasts
Connected to mine
Who are these people
I know and have known
Their stories seem far apart and distant
Their lives like stories from a book
With many of the pages missing
Looking back at my own life
I hardly remember anything
Did I really live so little
Hold on to so little
That I would forget so much
I remember my mother telling me
That as a baby I cried and cried
I even remember how that struck a chord
I knew immediately why I had cried
Or so it seemed anyway
Did I cry myself out as a baby
Choosing instead to suck my thumb
That surrogate nipple I missed
Replaced in turn by a radio
A bribe to turn my life again
As a boy they called me Chocolate
I like to think Chocolate consoled me
Sweetened my sorrow so to speak
I could, and still can lose myself
In Chocolate’s dark dreams
Coffee entered my life early too
At the local supermarket it was
They had a coffee grinder in the back
I often found unground coffee beans
That I would chew and suck on
They were bitter, those coffee beans
I want to say my life was bitter too
But really it was mostly easy
But underneath the softness of my life
I have felt a deep sadness and longing
Sometimes as a young boy
I would go out at night to look at the stars
Laying on my back in the dark
I would drift out into the starry night
Like I was returning to my true self
The darkness of those nights pulled me
But even more than those starry visions
I was pulled by the moon
I wholly lost myself in her light
When I fell into her vision I was home
Now, as an old man
She is the measure of my life
Ever changing, 
Ever the same
My love the Moon
yamabuki
1 Jan 2011
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