Our days are numbered and I realise. The moments I remember you lucidly are the moments that change me as a person. I’m as free as you are, or as free as I see you. I saw you, and you were healthy, and you were perfect, and you were mine; as a friend and as a father. Your memory isn’t fading, nothing is fading, except for the pain. I remember you, and you are eternity, and I am eternity, and you are part of me. Green and free, flying and limitless, the sweetness of your endlessness lodged itself around my present, and you are my present, my past and my future. You are my muse, my evanescent, muse. My once feared, once ignored, prominent, fatherly muse. You are not gone, instead you are here, and you are as present as you ever were, in me. if not more so, for the sole purpose, that I now understand your misconception. More importantly than anything else, you existed when everything else succumbed to transcendence. What we used to speak about, while watching the ocean roar, while watching the waves begin and end at our feet, it is now, not only then, and I remember you. Don’t forget how I remember you, don’t doubt your permanence in this transient moment I call my lifetime. Your lifetime is my inspiration, you inspire me. I am a writer for a reason, and now more than ever, I realise it is you, it is you I write for, it is you I try and permeate something fleeting for, it is within you, I let myself make sense. You were my fear, then you became my understanding, now you are my memory, and I will keep it alive, as I live, and let others feed off my existence. I remember you, and your beautiful essence, you are my muse, my leading, feeding, intriguing someone. If you ever feel confined, I will free you. You make me fly, you give me wings, you are my air, and I understand your purpose. I understand. © Rocio Belinda Mendez
Posted on: Mon, 04 Aug 2014 01:45:08 +0000
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