I Must Slow My Blinks

"Memory Wound in Roses"

A look,

that may never be

seen again;

special, worth

a fortune, and

so on, but where

are the words

to explain how

some of these

feelings wring

your heart,

take your

breath away, and

leave you

longing to

repeat them

and you can

never re-capture

the event again.

To re-create it

would turn it

into cinema, a

universe away

from your realm.

Feeding my

inner self with

feelings; my

sight drawn to

softly illuminated

vistas between

the hard places.

The tiny sprouts

of green grass

growing between

long tiles laid

end to side bor-

dering the side-

walk speak of

finding a

resiliant spot

within a hard

world.  That micro

size microcausm

that nourishes

your growth in

the same way

those magic

moments you

were remem-

bering did in

times past. They

sent you out to

shine.  They kept

you from drying

up and curling

in on yourself.

They kept your

ears tuned, your

senses keen, your

reason for

communicating

with a trans-

parent green

bug on the

plate glass win-

dow, and once I

blinked it was

gone.  Is that

what life is

like?  I believe

so.  I must

slow my blinks

or stop blinking

altogether.

Copyright © 2010 Nicole Rigets