Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter

Monday, April 11, 2005


Someday I will take and hang
my pictures on walls of memory
for you to call up those dreams
at will, when visions are of
such gifts.
Someday I will read to you
sonnets of Shakespeare so that
the reminders of tragedy need
only to remain in the past,
a reminder that what I offer
asks nothing in return, of how
love gently surrounds you
and is lasting.
And here, hoping beyond hope
for the day you look toward
sunlight and find the happiness
that was lost in darkened rooms
so long ago, for the someday
I will sing to you all the love
songs you need to hear.

-- An old post from a few years ago... something good got me thinking how the past lays steps and foundations for the here-and-now, and for the brightness of what-happens-next. This one's for my Irish.

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