Poem - memory of life anddeath. what we take with us when we die -friendships and loves. |
MEMORIES OF A DISTANT PAST By Richard Vance Moving ever closer to that distant edge, A sight unseen… Evaporating days I simply can’t recall, Or, at least, Not as well as I would like; They’re there, I’m sure, But somehow blurred together into one; So maddening, it is, That I can’t always bring them back exact, But thoughts, they do return - They come… Reminding me of waterfalls, Of faded colored ribbons blowing in the breeze, Familiar warmth, A smell of trees… Just jumbled bits and pieces Of some long-dead scene, But none the less, I see and hear the melodies again, The soft and distant whispers from afar, Like so many yellowed, cracked, and faded photographs, Forgotten times, till now… Somehow pulled from dusty corners of my mind, From melted mirrors Stretched and worn, A single thing they’ll never mean To anyone but me, But when I’ve finally crossed that meadow To the other side, I know they’ll come along, The faces, places, loves, and friendships, Born and grown, They’ll live inside, from now till then, To keep and be a part, Forever, For my soul’s embrace. |