Give me your tears, and all your fears;
Give me your sorrow that is near, but hidden even from those who are dear;
Give me the burden you cannot share, and all things that you ought not care;
Worry not how much I can carry, nor that some are tarry;
Be those like thorns in a wild prairie, or rocks sharp and craggy;
I’ll take them all, for a song But before I’m gone for long…
Give me all your tears, and all your fears;
Give me all…
Memories can be such bitter sweet things. We treasure them like precious silver heirloom or try to bury them like forbidden treasures in deep crevices.
Some are are taken out and polished while each engraving and feature is fondly traced. Others are accidentally and painfully excavated.
Over time tough some edges smoothen, jewels oxidize and others become pixelated. Even though some are revisited periodically, all eventually turn dark, grey and becomes but an undefined shadow amongst others at different gradients of luster.
And then one day the festivities of the heart returns. Some reminiscent as soft as baking soda while others as strong as vinegar. Together these recreate, revive and ornate textures returns in all its clarity.
Maybe enough to last a lifetime.
Till the spark returns and creates fine stands of silver or the heart finally sleeps.
