Forgetting and Finding

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I might at times
dwell in the land
of forgetting
 
The moss growing
under rock,
the wind telling stories
 
The grass keeping
my feet warm, the
quilt of sky too
 
This is when the
inky specter of
thought takes over
 
Forging a world that
veils the true colour
and sound of things
 
And takes me along
a route that my
heart cannot follow
 
Until I hear the bellowing
cry and become aware
of all I have forgotten
 
And now my heart has
found her audience,
and she will not let go
 
And nor do I want her to,
she, so fierce, beautiful
and wise, when broken too
 
She opens the most
ornate gates on all the vistas,
she lights the brightest stars
 
And it feels we, us and
world, have always been
waiting for this this moment
 
Waiting, with perfect patience,
and this, I have come to see,
is the love that saves us. – TS
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