When my beard is white as the snow
I’m afraid my memories will freeze over
Like a lake deep in the woods
I search the frosted glass for blurry shapes
And I will drill hole after hole
But there will be nothing to catch
We are built out of memories and dreams.
Even before that inevitable season,
I hear the crunch and crack under my feet
Photographs litter the forest floor
Still life moments, faded vibrations
Decaying, transformed, soiled
Memories of memories
We are built out of memories and dreams.
I find hope walking along a sunlit brook
Winding through the forest
Beneath fresh growth of lush green leaves
Unhindered by winter’s embrace, ever flowing
Down to the lake, cutting through the ice
Carrying stories, dreams, new life
We are built out of memories and dreams,
And you are my architect.
About the Creator
Shaun Walters
A happy guy that tends to write a little cynically. Just my way of dealing with the world outside my joyous little bubble.
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Comments (1)
We are built out of memories and dream...so beautiful. I believe 'we are the sum total of the make-up of our memories and dreams'. We are what we live. Lovely poem.