The dreams of youth germinate
Into cocoons of silky threads
Patiently woven over endless years.
Butterfly wings overburdened
By teary clouds
Find their final abode
Among fading flowers
Gathered in passing.
Memories collected
In our music boxes
Loose their fleeting hold
To awaken yet again
The dear voices of the past.
And the dance steps
Wind down and fade
Discreetly behind the curtain
When the box is shut
And the notes chime anew
On the shelf of our thoughts.
Jean-Louis.
August 2010