Those moments carefully stored away, originally uploaded by Thorsten Becker.
I am walking over hallowed ground
Over graveyards white and bleached
It’s perfectly silent, there is no sound
The world is quietly beseeched
I keep on treading, trudging
I behold my soul grudging
As I step over sticks and Styx
Because time has lost it’s rhythm
Lost it’s rhyme
Twelve strikes on the chime
As I’m
Passing skeletons reaching for the sun
A danse macabre, silently spun
My mind wants to wander, wants to run
To another place, wants to pry ajar
A door that leads to a land afar
My heart’s inclined to reminisce
Tries hard to dismiss
Dispel
This state of mind
Don’t want to dwell
On thoughts that do not bode well
And so I go on looking, searching, seeking
For those moments carefully stored away
Filed and numbered for such a day
For times when there may be dismay
And as I retrieve, one by one
All those minute points in time
As I look at all the things I’ve done
I happen upon an autumn day in the sun
It is quite astounding
How my heart’s now pounding
How I hastily open this memory’s page
How I engage
All my senses in this moment past
And I feel its sounds and smells and sights
Fill every corner of my inner chambers fast
These truly are the lights
That break through the darkest nights
These little pleasures, treasures
Points in time, divine
For what would we be
Without any memory?
Without days lived with simple joy and pleasure
How could we cope without such treasure?
I would not want to live from day to day
Without having some to store away
Without having anything to ponder
Anything to look back on, to marvel at and wonder
Such a life would surely be
As if walking over hallowed ground
Over graveyards white and bleached
Over a place perfectly silent, without sound
Until the end of the line has been reached
© Thorsten Becker
