Old and empty rooms,
The places in my heart
For near forgotten memories
Of now departed friends.
Random thoughts float
Drifting as a dust mote
Through narrow beams of light,
For a moment, bright,
By unseen hand tossed,
Until in shadow lost.
I sit midst aging memory
Like well worn furniture,
Draped in white linen,
Vague, detail hidden.
Throw open the curtains,
Let in the light.
Banish thoughts of gloom. Away!
Throw open the windows.
Let in the air,
Fresh with scents of a new day.
Repair for new guests.
Prepare to be blessed.
I like this very much Greg, very evocative imagery and a sense of great optimism in the last two stanzas- a strong ending. Merry Christimas to you and yours!
Youth in heart and eye...very important. Chronological age is a man made concept: ^)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
How we must let in that light to let in the life we still must live. Those memories seem like only yesterday for me. Thank You