Memories. Memories. Memories. All we have. Synapses of cells. Connecting the neurons of what we know with what we don’t know.
My memories. My memories can fill a sieve. I sift through the cells and wander through every little path I know and traversed through these years of life. 30 years they say, is too short a time to live. To understand. To know.
Yet, it is not too short a time to be. To float in the skies for each day of our minds. To grasp the tender weeping willows of pain. To merge our kisses with ice.
Heaven knows not a sweeter pain than sorrow. The hours of happiness are tinged with the bliss of ache. Swift and smooth to endure these last rays of the setting sun. In darkness to walk the rims of an unfinished life.
Seasons dripping like paint down a still easel – Autumn to shed the remorse and regrets of past thoughts -Winter to submerge the icicles of dawn, bitterness of a scream echoing down the valleys and buried dungeons of memories-Spring to counter the promise of darkness-Summer to rain arid the dry mouths of life creeping in. Till the circle turns…and the sieve bends, till the mind can no longer hold and we slip into the last glimpses of memories unfinished.