Sometimes, when holding on

Sometimes, when holding on

Feels more like letting go

I reconsider my relationship

With the past

Browsing old memories

As if they were photographs

Caught up in a reconstruction

Climbing a mountain

Even as the sofa claims my bones

Escaping to Spinalonga,

Reminded of the bravery

Of so many lost souls

Leprosy was always misunderstood

Butterflies swirling around my head,

Like a squadron of Tiger Moth Biplanes,

Landing on my hand,

A moment of trust.

Standing in front of Monet’s bridge

Seeing it through his eyes

Watching as you shed joyful tears,

Joy is as intense an emotion

As sadness but often,

More fleeting.

The clarity of a blue sky in July

The sweetness of strawberries

Eaten, fresh from picking

Wiping the juice from your lips.

The smell of the sea

From the deck of a sailboat

The smile on your face as you took the wheel

The way the wind blew your hair

There are so many images

Of wildflowers,

The bark of gnarled Oak trees

Red Poppies and lichen-covered rocks,

That I know I will find

In a painting,

So rarely was time ever wasted.

I turn the page on this moment and promise

To take nothing for granted

There is always something to be learned

In contemplation

And the truth is,

Even on a low-down day

Looking at the roof of the world

From the safety of home

Recollections are the proof

Of who I am

And what it means to be me.