Poem 248 – Echoes

Strange echoes of my past
Words and phrases of long ago,
Things that didn’t last,
Predictions of a future that never came to be,
Promises forgotten, faces still unseen
Hopes lost amid the passage of time,
And left within my mind.
Dreams I had of a lifetime that died within the week;
Loves that were forgotten though never quite by me,
Sins that were forgiven, though never quite by she.
I sit in meditation and these voices, they return,
And remind me of what I’ve lost, of a past for which I yearn.
As time itself slows all around me my memories grow clear
Conversations with a face I hold sovereign and dear,
In my room, in this moment, where all time sits as one,
I hear echoes of those voices and smile at every one.


Dear readers,

A while ago I sat down to meditate for the first time in a while, and as I sank into a meditative state memories started to come back to me, and then this poem appeared. I grabbed paper and then continued to meditate as my hand flew over the paper. The handwriting is terrible, but I’m pleased with the poem it produced – what about you?

Kind regards,

The Hapless Neo-Romantic


Tell us what you thought, or if to you these words are naught.

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