Memory’s Child

MEMORY’S CHILD

Memory’s child is crying

Longing for the past,

Mourning for those magic times

Wishing they would last.

But memory’s eyes will fantasize

Those things which are no more,

Never quite remembering how

They really were before.

This trick of turning things

Mundane to quite unique

Imagining them shining bright

Even when they were quite bleak.

Happiness is not a relic

To be dug up from the past

It’s more than merely memory

Of something that did not last.

Joy is serendipity

It comes in its own time

It blesses unexpectedly

Can’t conjure the sublime.

Memory’s child forgets

How things used to be

The mixture of the dark and light

Glossed over by revere.

There’s no use longing

For a mythic past

Hope must be forward looking

The sun will rise at last.

BW3