A Piece of Stolen Time

I remember when I wrapped it carefully-- put it away, and those who led me into life could rest until I call them forth into a resurrected day. Now the package lies in that old bureau drawer, undisturbed through seven decades I don't need it, and I can't throw it away. It is all I have of the I, that once was everything. I remember most of what is there, or believe I do. Does it depend on me? Do these unremarkable, precious ghosts still fly with slippery wings? And do they ever think of me? Oh yes, I know they do. I have a date with them, already penciled in, and though I cannot see it, I know that it is soon. Meanwhile, they stand there, motionless, their smiles know no martyrdom, a silent miracle--my treasure is well-preserved. And, I too shall play their role. So this is our reality; we make it so. Our thievery is faithful, and I hear the rumbling of a past creating future as I watch. The tumbling years will never pass me by. The pictures in my mind may lie forever in that bureau drawer, but tragedy and conquest, love and sweet regret will stalk the ages now condensed for me in one cherished fragment of reflection when an idle consciousness audaciously burst forth into unending light. ~