Memories

Many-faceted shining bits
    of what we said and did,
they filter softly down
    and crowd around my knees.
Quiet they gather, tiny, crystalline,
    and dreadfully perfect,
piled one on top of another,
    each hard to find.

Still, in the dark, they steadily mount—
    threaten to overwhelm me.
Even after these three hours
    they have drifted deep.
The longer this goes the colder I get;
    the harder it is to leave.
Sleep comes on. Wallowing here
    would be so very easy.

But I push back my silent friends—
    resist collective weight
to wade through, beat an open path
    back to conscious self,
away from pointed chill remnants
    of time I dare not touch,
toward the beaconed, beckoning light
    of the glowing hearth.

About Greg Wright

I have worn many hats as a writer and editor over the years. These blog entries will be more akin to the newsletter columns I wrote for Normandy Christian Church and Puget Sound Christian College in the "old days" than my more recent journalistic work at Hollywood Jesus, Past the Popcorn, or SeaTac Blog. They will also be of a more overtly spiritual nature than most of my recent work.
This entry was posted in Other, Poetry. Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to Memories

  1. Anna says:

    So vividly lovely

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