Memories Of Way Back When... Poem by Lana Grissom

I tried to find my Uncle today, called every last number,
On a piece of paper, he gave me after my Mother passed away age 15
Deep, yes, I must admit...I must say, I don't know if he's even alive Today.

Remember, the times we use to run across the street and Never,
Wonder why our Uncle was living with another man
Love Unconditional...It was so not different to us way back when.
No questions asked, no answers that begged...It was Family
It was Love of a sense...Way back when...Then.

We wanted to see the dog and/or investigate the growth of 'the Plants'
My angelic Grandmother thought they were tomatoes...no it was,
'The Indo'...they laughed but didn't utter a word.

We'd chant, make sweet noises of sounds, that at a time didn't reflect
Myono Renge Keo'...Myono.
Incense burning...Nag Champa, the box opening...There Budda sat Beads draped in draped in between our fingers, as we rubbed them
Together...the hat seats upon your head.
You start to chant sweet noises of sound...Myono Renge Keo' as you
Kneel on the bottom of your knee's...Very Uncomfortable.

I live in my Memories of Way Back Then...if I didn't Insanity would take over but I would
Win...cause of my delightful 'Memories of Way Back Then'! ...Amen.



Betwee