...THERE'S ALWAYS HOPE... (I HOPE...) THERE'S ALWAYS HOPE... (I HOPE...) THERE'S ALWAYS HOPE... (I HOPE...) THERE'S ALWAYS HOPE...
"we write to taste life twice in the moment and in retrospection." ~ ? ~ I read these words... "I LIVE SURROUNDED BY BOOKS, CDS, COMPUTERS, ANIMALS, TREES & COLORS" and I mourned... for I used to live in such a world, surrounded by so much creativity and life... the best of it is gone, entrusted to others who either hid or sold or destroyed the most valued things, living organics and arts, that I found or created or received as gifts along the way through this life... yes, it has been years... many years, in some cases... yes, I still mourn... that someone, the one who wrote the words, might understand the love of life and creativity I once knew gives me hope that the betrayers and careless people I've known are not representative of the human race... that someone might understand the loss and the path to overcome such tragedies is the hope that leads me to continue searching and believing in my dreams... that someone might share the dreams and give unconditional trust and creativity the rebirth it deserves in actualized physical spaces keeps me alive... sweet memories moments of love shared in the comfort flowers know of suddenly shattered a reign of cruelties nothing else mattered everything bleeds lost in apathy promises broken bring hope to it's knees but still I am standing on sweet memories sweet memories recorded in song in mixings of music and words simple and strong I miss the recordings and mourn the tragedies and pity the people who took them from me but nothing can take the sweet memories sweet memories written in prose and rhymes by my hand and authors I love the walls were alive with music and text when cost was no object more art would be next immersed in creation now all has burned down a forest without trees but nothing can take the sweet memories come walk for a while along ancient trails revisit the muses the laughter and wails the songs of the poets the dreams singers sing the instruments tell us what magic we bring dare thought to remember dare heart to re-feel dare share re-creation like one final meal and inspire the rebirth of the child inside the trees may be gone but the forest never died sweet memories bring it all back alive in sweet memories everything survives the prized recordings the turn-weathered leaves the heart is still beating I still see the trees reborn in our sharing and love is uniting the birds and the bees for nothing can take the sweet memories no nothing can take the sweet memories ah and the stuff, most of it money can replace, so that's where I am now most of the time... earning money, saving it, and eventually I shall replace the stuff that matters most that can be replaced... the musical recordings that can be found... the literature, or at least copies, that are available... all is not lost, just the most dear treasures that had little material value, but represented the most precious moments of this life... pity those who do not care, for they languish in their own despair, consumed by their own affair, the create their own hellish lair and into it they disappear... the time of mourning continues and the search for one who understands the healing process and who will share |
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