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Today's poem is by Nadine Botha

The Other One
       

I could find a million nuances for how to improve me and influence my life,
as though, if I could just identify that one—like The One, the love—
I would know, it would know and that would be that.

But considering how in almost 29 years I have not grasped one,
indeed come closer to wondering if it is The One,
I can safely deduce that the search itself is what has come to complete me.

After all, as another I says, one can mostly rely on being this happy
—no more or less—for the rest of adulthood.
We grow into stasis.

Thatís why adulthood is so forgettable.
Itís the longest period of the same mood one has in my whole life.
And now one realises that during prep time, adolescence, I had no idea.

I still donít always like to get my feet wet on the beach.
And sometimes I can handle leaky toilets better than other times.
It just gets as good as it can.

I can be grateful for that.
I can be grateful for getting more than I thought I might
have or could try for, and didnít.

In that sense, Iíve failed to dream big enough.
In another sense Iíve surmounted just enough to get here.
So, where then?



Copyright © 2013 Nadine Botha All rights reserved
from The Common
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission

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