if i can't do
what i want to do
then my job is to not
do what i don't want
to do

it's not the same thing
but it's the best i can
do

if i can't have
what i want . . . then
my job is to want
what i've got
and be satisfied
that at least there
is something more to want

since i can't go
where i need
to go . . . then i must . . . go
where the signs point
through always understanding
parallel movement
isn't lateral

when i can't express
what i really feel
i practice feeling
what i can express
and none of it is equal
i know
but that's why mankind
alone among the animals
learns to cry

Memories are just those suspended moments in time when everything is held together by the strongest strands of the spider’s web and the chest caving hug of a parent.
Memories are the tiniest seconds when you stand at the cusp of everything and watch every color breath across your field of vision and against your moral code you tie down those thoughts because losing that dance is worse than death.
They are the air we breathe and the space between my ears as lips creep up your face. Memories are the rooms of gold poured down a dragon’s throat and glaze hearts onto its eyes.
It’s the stuffed animal we all know is grotesque, but we can’t in our right mind throw away. Memories are the fundamental structure of everything good.
The warmth that rushes through our body and fire we take delight in. The unsuspected smiles that cause weird glances and good feelings.
Memories are an escape the equivalent to a book to which it is a world.
Memories are the birds resting on the shoulders of snow white that are so happy just to be there because they know the beautiful colors of a voice escaping her mouth are their treasure. Memories are the Hemoglobin of love that tell our minds: “remember this. It matters”

How do I say the words
I feel in my heart?
How do I tell you that I love
The way that you make me smile?
If I knew how,
Then I would tell you
How much you mean to me.
I'd show you the light
You bring into my life.
I'd say you are perfect—
Not the flawless sort of perfect,
But the sort that makes me want to be,
A better me than I am right now.
And even though I can't feel you close to me,
I can still feel you in my heart.
Yes, you have a place there.
And you fit perfectly,
As if you've always been there.
These feelings are new to me,
Like a pathway unexplored.
But I think I want to walk it—
To take the road less traveled.
If i offered you my hand,
Asking you to walk with me,
Would you choose to take it?

I've discovered what matters
Can change as we age
Life seems faster
As we turn each page
A garden gives pleasure
In ways we can't measure
Family visits enjoyed
In our leisure

Photographs treasured
Proudly hung in a frame
Bitter sweet memories
As nothing's the same
Gentleness kindness
A hug or a kiss
Is really what matters
These things I'd miss

A chat to a Neighbour
A smiling face
Simple treasures
That brighten the days

Of the people I've met
Over all these years
Some have brought fun
Some only tears
I discovered what matters

Only one of two things

People are weights

Or simply wings ~ ( )