Years later if you do find yourself
giving into nostalgia’s fancy, flight
and all. Do not lament the departed
back or the wingspan of history,
the lost of what was.
Remember my dear, the albatross
left its shell long ago,
only the scent of sea water lingers.
If you must soar back into the past,
take solace in those bygones
summers, magnetic in their reticent sweetness of air. Recall the pleasure
of moonlight and innocence. Be
grateful for every hour spent, lessons
learned by the skin of heart.
Do not think of how the storm came,
or the way the Earth bent and folded,
instead give yourself to sentimentality
of summer’s rain soaked showers.
Once you’re throughly drenched,
feel your feet slowly touch the
earth again.Watch as the past drifts
and wafts away.
My how it shimmers in the distance,
riding on the whims of the sky.
The warm updraft feels nice for a
moment but not as lovely as the pull of the ground and the beauty of now.