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Imagination…
what a beautiful word
And who knows
who could ever know
in my imagination, whose image lingers?
Who could know it is this very dream that keeps me alive?
That within me, it is memory, reverie, and your presence in thought that flows?
Some cry their hearts out to forget
Some laugh
Some sleep
Some fall into silence to forget
But I do all of it, not to forget,
but to remember
To let your presence grow stronger within me
Let the years pass,
let suns rise and fall endlessly,
let the world and its people change ,
who could ever erase your truth etched into my being?
Until the final particles of me,
the last ripple of my soul,
vanish from this universe…
And after all the hunger,
all the wandering
won’t you finally pull my bewildered eyes into yours?
Poet: myself 10 replies
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