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Sep. 23rd, 2009 04:38 pmWhen I was young
I gathered my experiences like bits of string
random cords of thin wisdom.
Loose and jumbled, they were beautiful
as chaos often is.
I did not value them.
Light as summer days lost,
some would fly away
on breezes of distraction.
Some I rolled between my fingers
until the fibers of the true moment frayed.
Others I treasured.
I tucked them safely away
into the box of my beginnings.
I knew some day I would need them.
I stashed away the frayed ones as well,
there is preciousness to a memory
soft and feathered by recollection.
Elizabeth Leggett
( Read more... )
I gathered my experiences like bits of string
random cords of thin wisdom.
Loose and jumbled, they were beautiful
as chaos often is.
I did not value them.
Light as summer days lost,
some would fly away
on breezes of distraction.
Some I rolled between my fingers
until the fibers of the true moment frayed.
Others I treasured.
I tucked them safely away
into the box of my beginnings.
I knew some day I would need them.
I stashed away the frayed ones as well,
there is preciousness to a memory
soft and feathered by recollection.
Elizabeth Leggett
( Read more... )
