Its been awhile since I touched this canvas. A case of days seeing less of me. I do live in them, just dont have time to jive. At this age I gotto love the things I grew old with. Being young is no more an illusion, but a feeling thats alive. They are alive so long I've memories, so long I live in my past...on occassions. These times present itself. I dont care when and where, if its nite then I'm a dreamer, if its day then I'm sailing on the high seas.
Memories are what makes us better. But then the paradox of life is, I dont remember living them moments, but I do now. All I remember are the laughter and sunshine, endless days and seamless nites, friends from every corner and love from all ends. I dont remember anything bad about it.
Is it me? Is it the ME in me...that laughed silently, talked charmingly day after day, breathed with an apetite for life and fed on my living moments. Those are the days, those are the times.
I also stop to smile how much, just how much this life has me in its clutches. The road I travelled, the people I met, the songs that opened me to a whole new world.
Ah! to fathom them all, if I'm to speak about 'em all..it should be the longest yarn...I would weave and weave and weave.
The fabric would be a rainbow.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment