What is a memory but a moment immortalized
In the moonlit mind of a midnight dreamer?
A gem of golden gladness gloriously displayed
or a moment of madness mirshed with misery
standing tall, torturous in one’s mind
Solid and immutable as a diamond by stress formed
Is a memory a gem to be held, polished, and admired?
Or a deadly shard with which to cut oneself
is it so concrete and rooted?
Or rather a bubble of iridescence capturing a fleeting moment
Of sun and reflecting a million rainbows?
Each glance back casting the brilliance of experience
Upon the fragile moment and seeing the subtle nuance
Of the bubble sounds dancing in the breeze of time
a memory moment so fragile and mutable
That the experience of seeing it changes it
And the rainbows dance to a different tune.
So fragile that we grasp it or we try,
Our desire to know invisible hands reaching
For that moment until they have it
Then …“POP”… it is gone forever
A burst of air gone
The moment, the kiss, the words gone
as a bubble bursts and leaves behind air
So the lost moment leaves an aching emptiness
Is memory a river, rapidly running rampart,
It’s riotous rage ripping the bank of the past
And rising to the present
the inundation seeping through everything
And overwhelming now and sweeping everything to the past
Maybe a mountain, an obstacle obstructing openness
And overshadowing opportunities opening up
maybe a memory is a mystery madly made magnificent
Or maybe a mirror