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Unending


The old chasm finds us,

The old circle of rising

And greeting

Is lost to the winds.

Memories virtue remains

But its edges grow dim.

So marvelous our time,

So soft our touch

Upon each others cheek.

Quieted voices,

Stilled exchanges,

Kept to the scrapbook.

What once was crystal

Now grows ever vague.

We reach to remember

The parting glass,

And find

well-cherished

Antiquities,

Parcelled

among the ruins.

Time might heal

But it also fades.

It remembers

But it also

Takes away.

It is a moving train.

The whistle

Echoes faintly still

only in the distant hills.

Oh, Great Gatherer

Of days and remembered

moments, keep those sacred,

who have accompanied

Our path.

Bring them to mind again,

as when we were young.

Find us and remind us.

Eternity waits for the believer.

Claim us as repentant keepers

Of love’s simple moments,

Poor charlatans who forget;

Who cannot help but be out-of-step

Within the dance that embraces us.

Partners ever,

reluctant departures,

Ever ready to take our hand.

John A. Bragstad is the author of two books: Compass Season and Nature's Poetry of Life. Both are available at Amazon or in local Grand Marais bookstores. An ideal gift idea.

" Unending" is taken from an upcoming work still in progress: Sojourner of the Spirit.

Special thanks to Pixabay for the title image.

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