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A moment

Now what is it with time, that makes one at ease
With leaving things unsaid,
And painlessly closing your eyes at nightfall
So certain of opening them again

The mind takes at no point such freedom
As when it looks back

What writer would not dream of expressing the depths
Of the humanity present in true love's kiss
The way you preserve the memory of the one that got away
What painter would not sacrifice one of his arms
To draw a horizon, so full of immensity and hope
As your mind recalls the skies watching over you from the hills, shores and plains
You may have crossed during your long, or short life
Maybe you have only read about love, heard about the sea, and never played in winter's first snow
But you remember it with wonder and satisfaction nonetheless
Only to criticize the planeness, or banality, of photographs and the accounts of others

I hope that everyone at some point in their life
Will enjoy the comfort of leaning back in their armchair
Reflecting back on their life with amazement, perhaps a small sigh,
Not dreading what may come, or looking back with too much regret on what has been

I entrust this to the power of the mind, which I feel humble enough to indulge
I see no fault in colouring the past with the power of imagination
There are human conditions beyond review
But it is curious,
The anger of yesterday that so quickly fades in the light of time,
Love that becomes a habit rather than a gift
And the dullness of a view too frequently visited

Perhaps the answer is to live through the sweetness of memories
And not the hurried immediacy as one might prophecies
You are curiously more likely to hit your attacker in the moment, than to forgive him

Wonders do not happen in a moment,
although they certainly may be found in one.

Poetry by Angie-M
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Written on 2012-02-01 at 01:51