The Melody Of Time. {poetry}
{Photo credit: Sophie Gregoire}
That is true,
we never had the time,
to smile enough,
go and bite the sun,
tell our secret garden stories
and narrate each other.
Of course,
you did leave,
even before I bloomed,
before I could make words,
out of the petals
of my thoughts.
You never get to see
that little brunette you created.
Live, grow up,
suffer and love.
Climb her ladders and fall,
jump on trampolines
like an amused gazelle,
stride along dark limbo,
catch the strings of the souls,
while flowering our world
with new ideas.
Of course I know
we never could
make our words leap
as you had wished.
Remember and relate
in concert,
as a sweet novel
of the past.
The aniseed sweets.
Our cushion-y days,
but also the dramas,
the hollers and adventures
and sparkling dreams
that adorned our lives.
Time did fail,
forever cutting the thread.
Ethereal and transparent
you flew away.
I still remember our August’s stars,
yesteryear’s perfume,
and our raspberry scents,
the candies
and crystals of violets.
I have inhaled recollection
inside and out,
I have surrounded them.
I still feel you around me.
Waiting for me,
in one room or another
every time I come back home.
On that sad and bitter day,
Reminding us of your leaving hour
The day you departed
for the Infinite sea.
Amidst that odd, instant chill
I have come to thank you for your gifts.
Hoping you will hear my words
from where you may stand.
I imagine you,
as high as we used to laugh,
as superb as your wittiest words,
an unalterable star,
Shining a bright blue sky.
You must know,
of course you do,
that kind words
are life’s aerial flowers of love.
They fly and dance
before overwhelming our bodies,
hearts and souls,
never to leave.
This is how the love pearls you had sewn,
both beneath our garden trees
and in my heart,
to this day,
still lift me in flights.
There are those souls who do not flee,
spirits who do not become ghosts
recollections which embellish,
and color the houses
against all odds,
in any way whatsoever
time seems to say.
Memory is such a honeyed candy,
offering us
the gift of our past,
a former beauty.
I don’t see you around anymore,
but through its savant recipe,
the memory’s trick,
you now live and breathe,
deep down in my heart.
Deep inside,
I know you listen
hear, help, smile,
and laugh at my mistakes.
You marvel in my wander
and my inexplicable adventures.
I wholeheartedly hope
you are also proud.
Proud and happy
of who got to become
that little girl you helped shaped.
I can sense your former smiles,
your own reassuring looks.
They seem brief, secret
and discrete,
but resolutely there,
behind the paintings,
as snatching out
the mist of the past.
We have beaten time.
We now stand apart,
like seasons do,
energetic summer and stationed winter,
Inexorably in our
palpable world,
put aside by time’s
unstoppable sweep.
But the more
he offers us his days,
entrusts us with
his round hours,
white unlimited treasure to decorate,
the more I hear
your sweet voice,
blue and purple waves
velvety, downy melody,
softly, relating.
On this anniversary day
may a thousand singing birds,
surrounded with baskets
of Lilly of the valley,
flow along your way.
Carrying in their scented petals,
all our summer memories,
and sunset skies.
With Eternal love.
*****
Sophie Gregoire is a thinker. You may often find her with a new idea or a new concept to explain, holding a notebook and pencil. Also found reading and writing, she is more than anything an independent soul. She enjoys traveling and getting lost in new places, namely in Asia. She says it helps understanding our worlds, its people and the humankind. She loves writing to transform her endless thoughts into some kind of reality, and to keep the little piece of sanity she still has. She savors coffee, encounters, Yoga and meditation, and cats… while her own cat is her greatest muse! You could contact Sophie via Facebook and on her writing page.
Comments
Latest posts by Rebelle Society (see all)
- Cemetery of Tears. - November 2, 2024
- My Identity Journey: What’s in a Name? - November 2, 2024
- Cyprus: A Magic Place That Feels Like Home. - November 2, 2024