when chapters become books,
and passion becomes love...
written in hours and minutes,
in days and weeks...
and weeks become months,
and months become years...
footsteps woven into one.
days of work for nights of small things...
food, fire, children, good books
and good wine...
quiet words spoken, falling like leaves,
the candle lit by touching
in the darkest hours...
do we forget, do we lose memory,
do thoughts become echoes.
bricks laid by sweat and toil
are lost in the wall...
need becomes distance,
and curtains fall.....
you stare at the body,
as if some stranger...
and a lifetime given
like tiny shards of light,
nails covered with rust,
the spider's web empty.
only the trees know,
mountains, and lost caves.
raindrops falling,
and moonlight never named.
the dog barking in the night,
you think for no reason...
ah! but love testifies,
in the smallest of things!
Yet, sometimes we take these small things for granted as they are happening...And one day you realize that time is moving faster, seemingly faster than it did when you took those smallest of things for granted....And then suddenly, how L A R G E these SMALLEST THINGS become as each year speeds on past...Superb Write...Awesome close-out...~FjR~
Very cute poem, plainly stated fear of forgotten memories, but then joy again :)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
In many of your poems of this nature you see beyond the ordinary and into the essence of what makes us human. In these types of poems the least bits become so much more.