Bubbles

** Written after Sandcastles II sometime around March 2004

By: Stephie

When uncertain, we drift to the familiar
Drawing comfort in the past.
Doubt pushes fickle minds to double back,
Claw at once-have-been's
Stretching memories until they bend, rend, and tear out of shape.

The past, with its spinning images and nameless faces
Too familiar to forget but too vague to polarize with a date and
place,
It reminds us of heartbeats that once raced and pulsed
Then flat- lined altogether.

We cannot learn to unforget.
There's no way to undo the hurt
nor erase scars that have begun to fade.
We must stop picking at scabs lest we bleed again,
profusely this time,
leaving us unable to heal.

Living on moments is a prerogative of the brave,
It's a gamble where stakes double by the hour
And you risk losing what to you is most precious and few.

These are just bubbles, I know:
Borrowed snippets of eternity,
Fragments saved in a fragile capsule,
Scenes in my mind's eye replayed from time to time.
But, they're the only company I keep in the empty moments.

Let them be.