I walked through a store, I used to shop;
I could feel her at my side;
a memory existed; like a photo op;
how could such memory reside?
Little bleeps and blurbs, of memories past;
my present awareness could not escape;
news clips of a lifetime, seemed to just last;
why can’t a mind simply erase?
Many vacant dreams; from so long ago;
traversed from thought, to oblivion;
yet I recall times from a distant snow;
is there some time-space meridian?
Some memories, like an evil, verbal invective;
shatter the peace and calm of my mind;
why can’t thoughts be analytical and subjective;
leaving all sadness behind?
Such illogical passions; there must be a reason;
for clouds usually preceed the rain;
all must happen in the appropriate season;
everything happening, causes gain.
Sadness and sorrows are seasoning the steak;
tenderizing that, too tough to swallow;
living without them, would be a mistake;
making passions, seem rather hollow..
Passion is the ocean that ebbs and flows;
the eternal energy from heaven above;
the waves of passion, comes and goes;
creating the energy called Love.