I remember. I remember the beginning. I remember the end. In the blackest hours she was lost in the wildflowers. In the end, did I really ever find her again?
It wasn't the memory.
It wasn't the loss.
It was the rain showers in between the sunshine.
It was the sweet grass scent on the wind.
It was facing a new world as a solitary being.
The truth becomes us. Asks us what mistakes we will make now and forces an answer we can't bring ourselves to say out loud.
I remember and I remember the echoes in between.
For my mom
Something I really like is when some photo I have taken or something I've written inspires someone else to create their own expression. Jessica's poem is first rate and definitely worth reading and after reading--hang a favorite on it
the thread that stitches us together
as life's needle weaves her way in and out.
it is the thing that keeps us intact in the in-between.
yesterdays and tomorrows.
sunshine and raindrops.
laughter and tears.
memories and dreams.
darkest night and the full promise of day.
love always lingers, even as we go--
it remains alive in each stitch.