I remember the feel of you...Your touch.
It burned my skin, even in the harsh depths of winters barrenness.
Etched into memory
wouldn't let go if I tried.
I went back
once
or twice
I couldn't feel
So I tried again
I finally found you there;
waiting
unilaterally comprehending what no one else held the capacity to
forcing it all to rush back in
flooding
Good to place your feet back into the fury of the oceans turbulence
good to feel
with understanding
You were a stone cold thief
I was a willing partner
nothing was off limits
everything was up to learn
designed to either build character
or destroy
refuge enters in different guises
close our eyes or no'
we'll see
the sound piercing
the senses reeling...
Between the first
and the last
Both remember the recent
the ancient
and pull from the middle of content
Deeply amazed that memories drove me to this
and were recognized.
Brilliant I thought
that one man
one
would read
consume
the volume of work
and know its origin
A flashlight in the dark.
When you write,
pen to hand
hand to heart
heart in thought
you convey
but for those who've lived it
we remain
He emerged from the darkness;
came to live a good, decent life
in mind
some action perhaps nobly misunderstood
Perched high above us all
in the great white north
his eyes twinkle in delight
To have been remembered;
elaborated
inked into immortality
April 16th...
Sinning where the Saints gather
Haven't we become the smoke of a fire long set?
Fact of fiction.
Where the road divided
I took the sense
and ran
simple right?
What I wanted to know
was why?
How?
And then it came to me;
in the arena
as we co exist
we find a way...
serenity
chaos
drama
calm...
whatever it takes
the withdrawl is made
Memories
result
We form
we live
eventually, if we're lucky
we comprehend
we live out fulfilled.
He asked of me
(in a jovial manner) how is it that you thought I, of all people, could forget?
And the relevance returned.
All of this mattered.
Pen to hand
hand to paper
ink to dictation
words into written, shared, memory.
We're each others past,
friends
and the bridge to our present.
As I fall into the last
I'm at peace.
Memories brought me here
both good and bad
I'm me
because you were you.
From the first to the last
remember me well...
This has been a good week. I hope the same occurred for you and yours.
Some days can be utterly futile, but they are, in the end time that is given to us sparingly.
Enjoy and love
hug fiercely
drive with the windows down once in awhile...
From my hand to yours,
Sawyer
Saint Andrews
