While life travels forward,
the steps backward are waiting,
a quiet reminder
a silent reflection
all become aspects of our interior,
that piece of our lives,
though we might desire,
keeps a constant wall upon our soul.
Though I choose to try
to cry through my pain,
though each morning, night,
in a day I can imagine every aspect
of what love meant – this wonderful
energy. This beauty and grace
within the fabric
of our imagination.
I do step forward,
do try to simply by memory
allow time to heal,
and yet,
where is the piece of my life,
sustain a certain eloquence, that is the remarkable nature
of love,
that part of a long string
of thought.
cannot be broken apart.
If she could, without several, independent
of a history of doubt, just one walk inside.
©Scott F. Savage 3/3030
apersonaljourney - stories of love 