Remnants

Behind an old iron gate, in a field now holding the blush of spring, lie the remnants of happily ever after.  The story trapped in the crumbling brick and weathered wood is easily missed.  Most people drive down the road, eyes faithfully tied to the graveled asphalt.  If they took a moment to glance past the worn metal cage, the little picket fence hiding among the vines would catch the eye; but they turn the music up to hasten the journey, drowning out the murmurs of love.

            Within the trees you’ll find it; a lifetime of laughter and a touch of something you can only feel.  They hold the images close to bark, captured in ringed memories.  Each new bud releases a giggle in jeweled tones and flowery fragrances.  Close your eyes; inhale the bits of joy they send as whispers on the breeze.  As one eye opens, and then the other, notice the way the light dances off the emerald foliage. Can you see the way each branch reaches out to carefully lay the tale in your upturned palm?

*   *   *   *   *

Behind the vines,

laughter echoes past the gate.

In the clearing,

we watch the gentle touch of fate.

Tear it down; the foundation

of love , built over lifetimes.

In our minds,

images of children run.

Past the light,

ghosts of yesterday catch the sun;

reminders; their lives still echo

in the heart, while tears begin the fall.

Time holds to memories,

left to wind and dust;

Captured in eternal light,

glimmers of love and trust.

It will stick,

on the edge of salt and water;

In the ripple,

the heart begins to falter;

It’s the love,

fallen back from memory,

that will pull; beyond the ache that binds you.

With all the pain,

you will find a hand to guide you.