In calm corners of the brain,
Pieces flash, shadows loosen up,
Minutes caught, yet they blur,
Murmurs of a daily existence once made.
Time, a stream, at any point streams,
Cutting ways where memory develops,
Every heartbeat denotes a part turned,
Illustrations lived and shrewdness acquired.
Youth chuckling, repeats splendid,
Blurred photos in delicate sundown,
Each look an entrance, an impression once more,
Of dreams once held, presently getting through.
The clock ticks on, tenacious, valid,
However in quietness, I track down you —
In each giggle, in each tear,
An embroidery of days gone by.
However time might take what we hold dear,
In memory’s hug, you wait close,
A dance of shadows, a temporary rhyme,
Always laced, in the arms of time.
Comments