Memory

We might be through with the past, but the past ain’t through with us.’ 

    – from the film Magnolia Directed & written by Paul Thomas Anderson.

Remember

 

The moon

a memory of the sun

a single coal

that didn’t burn itself out

skin silvered

brittle as a frozen web

heart remains midnight

 

a moth patters against the ceiling

sounds the beginning of rain

an ancient butterfly

lost in the night

searching for the scent

of the sun given off

by the battered moon

its showers of dust

the softest of pinpricks

the ghost of spin drift

the shore remembers

every footstep

 

an old photograph

folded and faded

creased and crumpled

your touch quiet as

paws on the piano

searching for the colours

grouting your fingerprints

sometimes the sun

floods it folds

blinding as footprints

brimming with silver

sometimes the moon is

brighter than the sun

 

I seem to be a little preoccupied with memories and remembering at the moment, as I attempt to learn from and re-evaluate my past. I’m amazed by how majority of the time I am unaware of how my past influences and shapes my future, for good and bad. I am learning to come to terms with this.

Come the end I want to have regrets, it means things mattered and that sometimes somethings are too beautiful to risk disturbing? It would mean I spent my life learning how to swallow the fear, trying to find the courage, striving to do better. I wonder are the only regrets that truly matter, I could have loved harder and I could have been kinder?

I have some more contemplating to do.

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