How does it feel like
To Have forgotten
When the sun and rain spoke in rhyme
When the heart pounded
Hmmm some vague memories
That do nothing to the cockles of the heart anymore
Ya, it is there in the movies
and in the songs
it shines in the eyes of the youth
But inside me there is
Only ash and smoke
Some creaks and groans
Wondering if there is wistfulness
If there is a sense of loss
An ache, a yearning
For what used to be
But no there is nothing
And so does this make these words so drab, so dreary
Because only words that throb
With the song from the heart
Is supposed to be that elusive thing called Love
Simple breakfasts, simple meals-
no feasts, no banquets
no bells peal, no music plays
the sun rises and then sets
the moon glides through the skies
no one notices the flowers bloom
nor the patter of the raindrops
Yet, so grateful that
the dry scraped out soul,
has become invisible, irrelevant
Nothing is missed- just happy
to be living the daily mundane life...
the fire, the zest, the passion, the verve,
the spontaneity, the playfulness,
the mischief, the piquancy
all gone forever
never to return or revive
Life is but bits and pieces of these
But mostly otherwise
It is shards and slivers
Falls, bruises and tears...
as one struggled through the web of living
everything else just fell by the way side
Just the strength and assurance of
Having each other's backs
To laugh the other’s smile
And cry the other’s tears
And sometimes sigh in unison
To sit back not so close
And yet not far away
one reads, the other writes
one may not speak
and yet the other listens
the heart has slowed down
and then it is about holding,
healing together
leaning back in gratitude
and placid contentment
