Remember Gratitude

It sometimes slips my mind,

when I think of commands my body can no longer obey,

to give thanks that there was a time it could.

In those quiet moments,

when beloved voices long silent whisper in memory,

to be mindful that countless shared moments created them.

In contemplation it seems a grave disservice,

to mourn things lost,

without remembering and rejoicing that they once were.

 

 

 

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Dirt Road Magic

The magic of dirt roads,

is that they take you places,

pavement never will,

 

It is only,

along these gravel tracks,

lost youth can be found,

hiding playfully within,

the fields and forests,

 

Here alone,

first loves wait,

to be remembered,

among the roadside flowers,

 

On these rutted lanes,

wisps of dust,

set free to dance,

with the warm breeze,

wear fresh faces,

passing years have,

blurred in memory,

 

Nowhere else,

by no other path

can this spell,

be woven,

be cast.

 

 

 

 

 

Strange Dreams

Strange dreams,

fragmentally remembered by,

a conscious mind.

 

Containing characters,

long gone,

conversations that,

never were.

 

Recalled to vitality,

they speak earnestly,

of things I should know,

in language I can’t understand.

 

If only my mind,

could work the puzzle,

I would come to know myself,

returning them to their quiet rest.