Monday, September 17, 2012

The past still lives

In cradled, canvas holding
the past accompanies me
shouldered thoughts unfolding
to drape reality.
Within the depths they jostle,
no more than reach away,
just waiting to be taken
and brought to birth again.
The bag grows ever laden,
the weight a constant drain,
and yet each memory is held
and calls once more my name.
What was still lives in darkness,
because I make the choice,
to keep it always by my side;
let it devour life.
The days begin in slow-step drag,
because the burden grows,
and whisper gritted words of pain;
it's time to let it go. 

6 comments:

  1. whew...i def feel the weight upon you in this...and you choose to hold on even when it is eating you....some memories are like that...so hard to let go no matter how much we have to ....

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    1. Actually Brian I don't hold on but I know quite a few people who did and do. I remind myself to 'let go' if I do find I am 'holding on.' And you are right, it is hard to let go and we do have to remind ourselves...

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  2. This poem definitely is a good reminder that we have to move beyond the past...embrace the present & face future. Lots to think about in your write.

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  3. So true. Too bad so many people can't let go of the past.

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  4. Wise. I like the rhyme and flow of this poem...seamless.

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  5. I felt this piece...you really nailed some deep stuff here. A great write and your title is so aptly chosen.

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