Night Poem

The memory of this life
just might be more painful
more joyful than it actually is.

Who knew when we met that yesterday
and tomorrow would happen so quickly?

I left only knowing what I was looking for
forgetting all that I would need
taking for granted all that I had
and spent much of the time
recovering what it was I thought I had lost.

Slowing down does this to a person.
Brings the now into the forefront
as the past beckons for attention
writhing in regret and I forget…
I won’t do that again
A sure bet .
And so I sit and soak in the winter rain
and snow without a coat or boots
only the knowing that this too shall pass -
the chilly air, the frosty trees,
the eternal nights and blink-of-an-eye days -
as it always does where seasons mark
the obvious passage of time –
Keeps me warm and protected
against the elements
and memory.

My hands no longer open and close
Only my heart.
In not clasping, I don’t ever have to let go
In passing, I know there is nothing I have lost.
I indeed have everything
whether I remember or not.
I tell you this
as I tell myself.
This is not a mystery.
No slight-of-hand conducts this illusion.

I tell you this as I tell myself -
we once knew each other.
We once knew each other well.
And now we know a memory of each other
like we hold the memory of the life we have lived…
Both are gone.
And for both,
I am grateful.