Juncture of the River
Memories are like rivers flowing through
the landscapes of our minds, liquid
thoughts waiting for the right moment
trickle, into tiny brooks to flow back in our
sight. One by one, we pluck them from the
pools of recollection that form at rivers edge.
Each juncture, a story finds life and reveals
the lost memory to us, fresh and sometimes
changing as something forgotten returns.
The colors may become more vivid and the
happiness or sadness, more or less intense.
Tales of yesteryear pass through our minds,
hearts and souls keeping our past alive,
renewing our hopes, reminding us of our
forgotten dreams. Renewing our sense of
being a part of something great and lasting.
Then there is silence, the rushing waters of
memories are stilled, the sun rises and sets
as days, go by, some more quickly than others do.
We turn a down a road, look up at the sky,
watch the landscape change, then become
recognizable, our hearts leap our souls have
a smile and we are once again gliding down
the river of our memories into the wonders
of our always conscience minds.