Memories are more than reflections
they are the dream-entwined weavings of light
ricocheted off tomorrow’s promise
I share with myself the words of selfhood gone
and in it find myself anew
now laughing at what i carried
crying at what i dreamed
loving the process of growth,
and its inevitable shadow decay.
Golden droplets of something real
fall into my soul from a distant sky
I drink them
savor them like honey
They are my roots, my soil, my air,
and now i am there sun
and give birth to them once again
shining new light on spirit-reflections,
which are more than memories