Nothing is lost

Nothing is lost

That can’t be found.

Somewhere,

There is a little boy

Who disappeared

Torn from life,

Where did he go?

The little girl

Who grew up too soon

Trying to forget,

Memories are open

To the elements.

Nothing blows

Like a north wind in November.

In the deep

Of a frozen brook

Water still bubbles,

And children sleep

In search of a dream.

Grass stalks splinter

Under foot

The world is fragile

Hearts are too easily broken

Losing direction

In search of a reason.

Things always happen

Out of sequence,

Time slips

Without explanation

Loose ends

Refuse to be reunited.

There is little to understand

In retrospect,

We look for resolution

When nothing

Is ever truly over

But in a perpetual state

Of continuance.

The least we can expect

Is to wake up

At the beginning of something

Instead of mourning an end.