it’s raining
the wind, drenched in rain, quietly passing by.
the memories have no time
to develop into the images on running water,
blurred by the flow.
drain swallows the remnants
drags them underground like a hungry beast
keeping memories imprisoned, intact
not alive and not entirely dead
just to devour them later in the privacy of the grave.
pile of skeletons in the corner of the cave,
archeological riddle, histories of past events
none of which was powerful enough
to make the history, terminate the flow,
break the cycle, to overrun the rain.
it’s raining. I let it rain!
In the end, more than money or material things, next to time, our most precious possession is our memories.
ReplyDeleteSometimes those memories can keep us warm on cold wintry nights or bring a smile to our faces when we need it most.
But sometimes our memories remind us of what we had, what we've lost and what could have, should have been. It's times like that when it's good to have the rain in our face to wash away the tears.
Memories are one of our finest human possession,
ReplyDeleteand the way how we store or dispose them makes us individuals. some of mine i send into rain...
Brilliant ~ I love it!
ReplyDeleteMemories allow the mind's eye to fly across, over, through time ~ plus, imagination, plus history.
Thank you Eric for your words and thank you not getting tired of me (my writing) for all the time i know you!
ReplyDeleteOh, Erik. I have misspelled your name. Not that I am as bad,but because i got exited reading your post. And sorry about it, you know I mean well...
ReplyDelete