Over the distance of time
events are forgotten
that shaped a life.
History is written
of the famously known
but the achievements
the wonders
of the ordinary one
slowly succumbs
to the mists of time.
A child of five
wins awards at school
accolades at 15
remembered for a time
but slowly it happens
memory fades
decades meander
as time follows time.
The poem is lovely. One of the things I really enjoy about family history is trying to reconstruct the memories of people and events who have almost been forgotten over time.
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Thank you. With your blog you are doing that beautifully.
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I have a lot of fun doing my blog, and it’s wonderful when others enjoy it.
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we do, we do!
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I love your quips, but its good to see one of your beautiful poems again
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Thank you my friend.
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Those memories, such as how your father’s arms felt way back when, I believe will be replaced by reality, as when his arms hold you again. Spiritual bodies? Why not? Why would that be any less miraculous than how our bodies are designed and hold together, or the universe and its ever-expanding scope?
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I pray you are right. That is a very comforting thought, thank you.
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The way the world works, and doesn’t work, it is without question fallen, and yet that seems to be going somewhere…everything’s moving, and feels like it is accelerating; literally, the galaxies are indeed expanding and accelerating outward…there’s movement toward some destiny in all these plans, and somehow the very small, like each life of ours, like each quark and smaller, seems no less grand and cosmically important than any other element in the grandeur…I marvel and I wonder, and I don’t even know a fraction of what I marvel and wonder at…
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well said my friend! I am ever hopeful . . . .
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