From the desk of The Rhyming Elephant The Remembering Place In that small time, just before dawn, my mind travels. My companion, solitude, greets me there, and helps me unravel. We wander slowly, trying not to stumble on the remembering. But stumble we do, and my heart steps in, to help with the rendering. I dont always like the remembering place, but time finds me there more and more. As older age disputes sleep, the clock face lights my way to memories door. And stepping through, memories painful crowd into my space. Now sleep becomes a desperate search, for I dont want to be in this place. But I am here now, and must face that which will not stay behind. I shut tight my eyes, and will it not to be, but cannot erase these etchings from my mind. Even so, once again, I feel another has joined me there. My Jesus, that same Jesus whom the subjects of my memory share. He holds my hand, as Mom, those face and hands mirrored in my sister, speaks Russell again. He holds tighter still, as our Lisa, whispering Papa Bear, stirs up a fresher pain. And standing side by side, our Lisa restored, Moms youth renewed, they share a smile that says Its alright. Yet for a little while, and your remembering place will be no more, for here, there is no night. And then I am awake, for the wandering has turned to sleep, and wonder, will the sorrow someday be a lesser thing? Will my remembering place hold kitchen smells, keyboard notes, two voices joined to sing? But my Saviour says, I will ease the sorrow from your heart, and lead you from your pain. Then fill your remembering place with your longed for duets strong refrains. Russ Reimer August 13, 2014
Posted on: Wed, 13 Aug 2014 10:10:24 +0000
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