Remembrance.

Remembrance.

Anniversaries turn me back

And looking at the past

From a world of my creation

Is a bitter truth

That may never taste as sweet.

It is a mordant reverie,

To stand closer to the man

I thought to be

But further from the world

I used to know.

It cannot be denied

Adversity and life

Have changed me,

Not all for good or ill.

Although, mindfulness

And cautious self awareness

Are valuable gifts

To be richly celebrated.

But at what cost?

When so much is lost.

Can we pay too high a price

To be the better man?

Is it enough to have survived

Life’s spiteful challenge

And still remain upright,

When it might have been so easy

To fall by the road side.

Experience can forge a sharp mind

With a keen edge,

And temper wisdom

In a heart that barely smoulders.

Heed the call

And stoke the dying of the fires,

Feed the hungry embers,

That may yet burn with a warmer glow.

And in time,

Sadness, though deeply

Etched into the pages of a story

Will not steal the glory

Of the final line.

Words can themselves be golden,

And spin a thread, to mend a broken heart,

Weave new magic from

A tiny grain of truths

Finely craft the old sack cloth

Used to cover the grey ashes

Of our broken past,

And transform it

Into a silken cloak.

Of many hues and shades,

As may yet,

When worn anew,

With a more beneficent

Persuasion

Change this world

And lighten its complexion.