The Library Has Come Undone
So many words about tears, about awe, about love,
I named each grouping, calling them poems.
Yet today, some poems and their words are lost in a mind
of too much time..
so many fragmented nights, piles of weeks
like heavy books falling over me.
The whole library has come undone,
names lost, order replaced by chaos and fog.
Like pictures fading in a drawer,
of people so long ago, no one remembers their names.
Like fish swimming here and there…never returning to here.
So here goes on without them…
and something else sits in the scene for awhile where they once rotated,
in impressive schools, inspiring dreams.
Now it’s a shell, or a fallen boot, at the bottom of the sea
Now it’s here and now we have no memory… until something else takes its place.
We should always know our own, but even that goes.
Our flesh and blood born from our sleepless nights, of passion and pain,
Lost in a veil of “I can’t remember this poem’s name”
While we are looking for what was lost,
we come upon a few, that we’ve signed at the bottom,
and yet they look unfamiliar, like strangers,
who, at one time, we might have intimately known,
but have almost totally forgotten.
The whole library has come undone;
those systems we used so well..no longer work as before.
If our little word groupings,
our paintings, our diaries and prayers
are not gathered safely to sleep on a cloud,
backed up and tucked in, while floating eternally (or so we hope),
Who could say they ever were here, for a day, a year a lifetime?
Oct. 23, 2018