Sunday, September 02, 2007

Oil and water...

can we be
ourselves together,
overlap
without eclipse.
compliment
but not erase,
allow some
pieces fit.
breathing room
yet boundaries.
I am like you,
but not you.

15 comments:

boneman said...

I often blend oils and water and seasonning for cooking with.
Seems when things get hot, they get delicious with the mix.

Anonymous said...

.. it is all about compromise and mutual respect.... well, as far as I can figure...

Eric

Jean said...

My biggest fear in being in another relationship someday... losing myself again. Like I did in my marriage.

kdzu said...

Well, now you can't lose yourself. You hadn't found yourself the first time. mostly takes awhile to find for any of us.
And as boneman said, it makes a good mix if done right. With the proper seasoning.

Jean said...

I never thought of it that way, Larry. Point taken.
As far as the seasoning... well, this half-Hungarian gal just loooooves seasoning :)

Winston said...

Of all the wonderful things you have written and posted here, this one speaks to me most. If only everyone believed and behaved in a way that used their similarities for strength while allowing for their differences... But, that is a dreamer's thought and wish...

Jean said...

Winston, I am a wishful dreamer...
Very glad you like it so much.

sparrow said...

It strikes me that this is true of a parent/child relationship as well. Often parents think children are them, or versions of them, but they are not.

Jean said...

Sparrow - I agree. None of us are clones... nor, should we be.

Kim said...

Oil and water-emulsion when mixed appropriately. Good or bad. Intriguing poem.

Jean said...

Kim - life is so intriguing, no? :)

AspergantuS said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Jean said...

Mick - exactly!

AspergantuS said...

Individuals
Jigsaw puzzle piece apart
Together make one

Haiku

k said...

For a very long time, I had this real fear of repeating the same error I did in my first marriage long ago - that complete losing of self. Worse yet, losing myself into a person completely unworthy of it. (Not that anyone could ever be *worthy* of that destructive control of another.)

I was 18 years old when I first married, and divorced at 22.

When I was around 40 years old my therapist said, --Just because you made that mistake before doesn't mean you will again. Do you really think you'd repeat it now? If you could turn back time, would you repeat that error, knowing what you know now?

My answer, of course: --Hell no!

She said, --Neither would I.

:-O !!!

--You mean *YOU* did that really dumb thing, first time around?

--Sure.

That was one of the most comforting therapy sessions of my life.