A Lesson in Internal Memory
I remember the feeling of arms cradling my small infinity
as I struggled to make sense of this lifetime.
I remember when time had no meaning
and seconds slowly slipped by without my notice.
I remember the endless chase of summer,
and the promise of a new day bursting open each morning.
I remember pressing my ear to the slippery bark of trees,
catching whispers of interior secrets.
I remember finding geodes in the earth and cracking them open,
awakening the shimmering crystals inside.
They sang out at the gentle kiss of sunlight.
I remember stealing the sun from the sky and squashing it
between two stubby fingers.
Heady power for a child of seven.
I remember the first time I was stopped by a mirror
and found myself unable to tell
if I was looking in or if I was looking out.
I remember realizing
that everything I had ever been told about the world
was either a truth or a lie,
but that only meant I could make up my own truths
and believe my own lies.
Share This Poem