Being Human and The Nature of Man

I never was a social butterfly. I never had a best friend when I was young; I had my sister. My first and only best friend I met in 9th grade and of all places, in history class. I say of all places because the one class I actually hated in school was history; any history, and that included government. As a teen I knew a lot of people and as people will do we called each other friends, but I was never really close to any of them. My best friend and I have had spats and separations throughout the years but I’ve always seen her as my best friend. Growing older and turning into adults she stayed in my hometown and I followed my first husband wherever he wanted to go. Whether it was Kansas for a year, then back home to Oklahoma City, or California for another year, then Texas for two and a half years and finally home (Oklahoma City) again. Actually he had to follow me home cause I refused to go anywhere with him that I couldn’t reach family for help if I needed it; and of course I did need it. Sorry, I’m getting off the subject. Anyway, she stayed in the hometown where we grew up, but I hated that town too much to go back. The only reason I ever went there again was to see her.

I’ve lived a lot of places and met a lot of people but I’ve never felt the kind of friendship I’ve had with her. As an adult I learned how to be a good hostess and always loved having people over. There were a few people that I clicked with more than others, but there never was anyone like her. Now I’m old and I can’t drive everywhere. My medicine makes my reflexes less than perfect and I wouldn’t want to have an accident. Still I think of her all the time, but days are busy and nights are too late to call.

Now the loneliness is so deep and complete it is almost too much to bear. I don’t think the anti-depressants are working. There are too many sleepless nights and days that are much too long. There are too many tears and not enough smiles or laughter.

There are two poems with this posting; because I couldn’t choose one over the other. Poems: Being Human and The Nature of Man

Being Human

When young I was rather quick to decide
Everything that I wanted in my life
Picking and choosing each step of the way
Very little did I choose to deny

I made a vow many years ago
Not to regret the choices I made
But I was young and very naïve
To think it was that easy to age

Regrets? Oh Lord, there have been many
Far too many to try to recall
Each decade brings its own small follies
While I’m left with a mind that sees all

It’s the way life makes us remember
Every memory that’s left behind
Hoping the next step will be better
And in the end we’ll find peace of mind

It’s our spirit that regains its strength
Through the times that we happen to fall
Oh how the heart does ache from hindsight
The curse of being human after all

Susan Palmer-Davis
©2002
All Rights Reserved


The Nature of Man

Is it not the nature of the beast
to strive hardest to survive
when so brought to the brink of death
to find a deeper strength inside

Is it not imbedded in the soul
A need to continue living
A need to breathe without great thought
To simply go on without thinking

Is it not the desire of the heart
To achieve complete understanding
To casually delve into the mind
And retrieve what becomes demanding

Might it be that we fear so greatly
That which to us is still the unknown
Or maybe we harbor secret thoughts
that only allow our fears to grow

So do not fear that which is our fate
Even when the drawing is so strong
And know whatever the day does bring
our essence will forever live on

Susan Palmer-Davis
©2003
All Rights Reserved

Lost Passion

Passion, what a wonderful word. When spoken it evokes many different pictures (thoughts) from everyone. My passion has always been writing; whether it was my poetry or just my thoughts. I couldn’t write enough! Always had a note book somewhere close so that I could jot down whatever came to mind. The problem is, ever since I got sick with Congestive Heart Failure I’ve had to take a blood pressure pill. It didn’t take long before I realized that the passion I have for writing was being affected by the pill. Actually, all the medicine that I take could be contributing to the lack of passion and/or the depression I’ve been feeling for so long.

What can I say that hasn’t been said before? What can I feel that no other has felt? I long for the same things that most people long for. I’ve found some, just as many others have. So what is causing this debilitating sadness? This feeling of loss or of some blackened shadow that seems to be just out of reach or hidden around the next corner.

Passion: an ember that ignites from a spark of imagination. Then begins to grow, burning brighter as it feeds on the dreams that hope allows. Take hope away and the ember lies dormant, waiting to breathe again… it must breathe again! Poem: Lost Passion

Lost Passion

Oh Lover of Life come visit me now
Remind me the way it should be somehow
For I need to feel that passion again
That laughter and joy from somewhere within

The warmth that is felt when you see a child smile
The sound of their laughter never tainted by guile
The glow that you feel when they look up to you
For guidance, acceptance, yes your heart, too

Then there's that first step, first date, and first car
Milestones as they grow to be who they are
Watching the years pass and seeing them change
Nothing prepares you for the years that remain

I'm not just a mother, I know that is true
But now I don't know just what I should do
I've lost that edge, that passion and desire
That ability to break away from the mire

When young your love you give too easily
That's how you wind up as jaded as me
Don't chastise me yet, 'cause I’ve lost my way
It's easy to do just living each day

Susan Palmer-Davis
©2007
All Rights Reserved