Day folds into a small dark box,
filed onto shelves of past’s dim recounting,
and what light beheld a heart,
fades ever so gently into time’s endless pitch,
recalling a transient misted truth of memory.
Maudlin moments drag shadows to surface,
half-opened boxes with indistinct flavour,
and sift we may to find joyous account,
they too are tempered by time’s delay,
and thoughts dissipate like clouds scattering.
Yet, now and then,
light shines from one single box,
one moment of sublime heart uncovered,
and those beams radiate out and fill the mind with love,
thoughts lost in day’s closing,
but lingering as love does, to light memories on fire.
Each moment, each day a box is filled with memories,
may they be shadows or joyous light,
and tis our desire to let love pervade each an every one,
so as life fades, our dreams come true may blossom
in the garden of our thoughts,
to show us the worth of life’s behest.
Tony DeLorger © 2017
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