Photographic Memories
The mind is an ocean, vast and deep,
Where silent, waking shadows creep,
And thoughts drift by like ships of light,
Upon the endless sea of night.
It is a loom of gossamer thread,
Spellbound by sunlight, hope is bred,
Weaving the tapestry of days
In bright hues and a winding maze.
Within this quiet, vaulted hall,
The memories gather, stand, and fall.
A sudden scent, a fading song,
Can bring the distant years along,
Rebuilding worlds of joy and tears,
Across the bridge of vanished years.
The past is never truly gone;
It lives within the inward dawn.
And oh, the castles we can build,
With chambers by the starlight filled!
We soar on wings of pure design,
To touch the edges of the divine,
To paint the sky with whispered dreams,
And sculpt the mountains, shape the streams.
No gravity can hold us bound,
When in the mind we wander round.
Yet shadows dwell within this space,
A quiet, often lonely place.
The doubts will whisper in the dark,
And blow upon a dying spark.
The mind can be a stormy sea,
Where thought is bound, and thought is free,
A tempest raging, fierce and loud,
Concealed behind a quiet shroud.
I kissed the rain when tempests cleared,
And brought the lucid sight had neared.
A gentle breeze of reason blows,
And soothes the mind in sweet repose.
We sit upon the sandy shore,
And watch the waves forevermore,
Observing every thought that crests,
Until the weary spirit rests.
It is a galaxy of thought,
By unseen hands so deftly wrought.
A universe of shade and shine,
At once both human and divine.
To muse within this quiet mind,
Is the greatest journey we can find—
A boundless realm, forever free,
The mirror of eternity.
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