Other days
By S. Michael Downs @2008
Other days live in the pathways of our mind old roads to walk again.
Tiny bits of shooting light that may be reformed to reclaim better times.
Other days are paintings that change colors with time.
Able to become kinder, easier, more real or even worse.
Other days return to comfort, excite or haunt us.
Echoes of laughter and tears, things we might have done better.
People we loved but did not tell.
People we told, but did not love.
Other days are remembrances of youth too quickly gone.
Of passions too easily spent.
Of greater hope for the world and filled with a naivety so beautiful as to be enabling.
Other days are made to relive when today seems not to compare
Somehow warmer and filled with zeal I seldom feel now.
Still, today was made to be forged into tomorrows “other days”.
It’s best to remember that as we meander through the precious minutes of our lives.
Be grateful and thank God for other days.
I hope you have as many as you wish for.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem