Remember when we tore up
The list
Of everything we had done
Or had been done to us
Tore it up
Threw it in a metal bucket
And struck a match
She claps her hands in glee
The bells rang
And the men in boots
Came
It really was an adventure
Bridges and ladders
Codes and clues
Moving without pain
Running
Getting muddy
Climbing
But never falling
Being locked in the soft room
Bouncing off the walls
Never tiring
Pulling our hair out
All just a game
But did we win
She scrunches up her face
In concentration
We had to ask them for the key
So really not
All just a memory now
And we no longer make lists
It is enough to live
Day by day
Survival
The way it has aways been
Apart from those
Magical moments
Which sometimes
We wish could return.
Looking back on such times, one appreciates the calm steadiness of the now. "It is enough to live day by day." I think so too.
ReplyDeleteAh, the wild memories! Perhaps it does no harm to revisit them this way. I agree that it is enough to live day by day – something many devoutly desire! – yet a moment of memory can also bring a touch of magic in.
ReplyDeleteYes, our desires certainly change over time … eventually they become more immediate and strive to be as painless as possible. But it is fun to remember earlier days.
ReplyDeleteO my goodness, Jay, you forgot the next. You threw away the key, sounds like St. Peter will hold the next for you. My moto is "I've done all the things I needed to do and most of the things I've wanted to do." I tell that to folk when I feel they MIGHT want to hear.
ReplyDelete..
You had me from tearing up the list.
ReplyDeleteComing into one's own ... beautifully, chillingly real.
ReplyDeleteMemories of past hurts can claw us back to the past if we let them. It is better to let them burn if reflecting on them becomes self-torture.
ReplyDelete