I have something going on in my life right now that has inspired me to pick up pen for the first time in 15 years. It is a personal situation that may never be resolved. Obviously I’m VERY rusty and it needs work.

The Remembering

 

In a darkened place a candle stands.

Its flame a beacon of sanctuary for those who face the glow.

 

Separating the two is the brilliance of fear, a light unknown, yet so enticing.

But to reach beyond is to understand the burn will forever seal.

Sealed. But where?

As they watch through the glimmer.

 

Preserved as a memory, a smile and a touch?

Connected by mind and soul, forever linked and yet not?

Or bonded by heart, strength, and spirit?

 

The memories will always be preserved, none to change what was.

The musing a tribute to who they were;

an element of who they are now.

 

And the candle grows brighter.

With the remembering.

 

A connection almost surreal, not close but still present by its absence.

Souls found kindred, not newly discovered,

yet instinctive once more.

 

And the candle grows brighter.

With the remembering.

 

United by the heart, the center of their beings tested by times gone by.

Joined by strength can be witness to conquest.

Bonded in spirit can vanquish everything.

 

And the candle grows brighter.

With the remembering.

 

To reach across the flame, to feel and to touch.

The flame may smother or blaze bright to envelop those who are there.

With the remembering.

 

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