'A flow through time'
All things come to pass,
and time keeps on, forever moving.
As it stretches forward, our memories grow,
turning moments to echoes,
each experience drifting toward memory.
The sorrow lies in memories left unshared.
I see that things fade,
lingering only in my mind—unspoken, untouched, slipping quietly away.
Like a fire losing its warmth, soon to go cold.
Which is heavier: the weight of forgetting,
or the silence of unspoken remembrance?
The clashing and calm,
the flight and freedom,
the laughter and tears.
Between the memories lie fleeting moments,
the small, stirring glances back,
bringing forgotten feelings to life,
running alongside time’s endless stream.
It is our calling—not to let memories drift as shadows in the mind,
but to let them color the journey, bringing meaning.
For even if memories are never shared,
the blessing lives in the living, the now.
So recall, tell, and look back as if
you are interviewing your own memory,
unfolding a story to relive,
an experience to hold again.
Remembrance of things past..
When I wrote this poem, I was grieving the loss of someone very dear to me. All I had left were memories of moments gone by—stories from a time I might never get the chance to share again.