Slipping past

Slipping past the memory
into the realm of forgotten dreams
and thoughts of that unseen
we reach out to touch the haze
through darkening skies
and shadowed days
grasping at the ghosts of self
history doomed to repeat itself
we touch the images
to see
what changes passing days spawned
upon these keepsakes
past their prime
back in time
we set them aside
to ponder fate
letting go
or to wait
for more seconds to tick on by
through the life
we tell ourselves
it doesn’t matter
and perhaps it doesn’t
but we wait unsure,
afraid to let go
and feel
the emptiness
that surrounds
in the cracks and spaces
where it had lived
and finally died,
where forgiveness resides
there waits a light
and we open our eyes
to see
to know
to feel
to let go.

Prompted by a post from my pal Elouise and a reply I had made that got my wheels turning. In a good place, no fears ❤ Peace, blessings, and tidy spaces.