Having fallen once in love, one never completely forgets it, nor the subject of that love. And it becomes more than just a memory; it becomes an integral part of one’s psyche, a constituent of one’s character, a factor of one’s moral compass.
Tomorrow is the tide of yesterday,
When knowing you was heartache and a want;
And there was something felt that ebbed away—
And something else that hovered as to haunt.
The future is the echo of before,
When passions lingered to reverberate,
Like waves that washed and lapped upon the shore,
Caressing with a touch that did not sate.
Those moments were like ripples in a pond
Of which the cast was all abruptly sheared;
When dewdrops gleamed and showered from the frond,
Again the ripples ran and disappeared.
Tomorrow waits, the future does not shove,
Nor does a look suffice to fall in love.
r. nuñez, 7/2016
About the Creator
r. nuñez
I am a shamanic priest who loves to write stories, poetry, and songs. Retired, but still helping people, animals, and the planet.
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