Memories Of One Lost

You are the face of those who fell before you.

The only trace left of the people you call, “ancestors.” Your blood beats with the spirit that embodied them, the lust and the passion that fell upon their skin at any given time without warning and in utter accordance with their souls and their hearts and in entirety, their being. Do you step out into a forest and stare up at the stars peering through the trees? Do you breathe in and fill your lungs with the smell of the earth? Do you remember? Do you feel? Do you play the part so well as to please those around you but never to give due credit to yourself? Are you a pure representation of the portraits painted with lines and corrected with facets of another time?

To breath and to feel. To cry and to smile. To fall and to catch the fallen ones, never letting go of them. Their faces emerging nothing but a brand of trust and care and kindness all now splayed out for your game. Do you pull them back into the wild reserve of realities, to where the light and the dark meet at the edge of a place so lost and so disclosed? I do. I always do. I will never stop catching the ones who can't help but fall at each step they daringly take, whether out of fear or foolishness, out of willpower or lack thereof, it is and always has been my purest pleasure and my most embodied trait. To take hold of them and to never leave those who may one day leave me.

I am waking up. I am feeling the energy of a million heart beats and I weep for those who cannot anymore. My hands are tied now. I cannot do anything except watch you fall. I would leap for you but alas I cannot. I am truly at a disposition of disappointment and regret. But, if you love me just like the way I love you, will you allow me to be so bold and propose the imminence of all things being unending? You are always unending to me. When you leave, and one day you will, the world will be a lesser place. It will cry for you, it will never sing the same song. The song of you will echo through the trees and blow solemnly with the wind, forever remembered as the blossom that bloomed last but outshone all that came before you.

Time is nothing to you, you have always been favoured by the beauty of grace, laughter, mystery, wonder, amazement, and the centrepiece of you has always been your heart. It has been wounded by many hunters, the bullets do not even leave you feeling pain for you have grown in accord with pain, you have beat pain at its own devices, you changed destiny and you laughed in the face of death, “What power does the eternal sleep hold over me?" you would taunt. You danced through the flames and dived into the wild seas without reluctance or fear, just pure curiosity and the aim to breath on your own.

“Take my hand,” I shout to you. You smile and run from me encapsulating all the pretty notions that, I admit, we have all drawn of you. You make me smile. You make all of us smile. Your giddiness and gaiety have always pulled us. We never left you because you gave us life, you give us life. The reason is you and you have sketched the reason in shades of blue and pink — colours lost amongst the ruins of Venetian castles and scattered about Europe as if meant just for you, as a means to find your greatest love, which has always been your destiny.

The clues of lifetimes past solely left for you to find your way to the heavens so that we, every night, shall watch you dancing from star to star. We will watch in admiration and remembrance of you, dearest flower, dearest wonder, dearest heart. You will be gone from earth but now we will forever paint your story with words that do no justice to you. Thunder will roar and it will be a sign of your presence saying, “There, there little one, I am with you!” calming the littlest of your lambs. The rain will fall from the sky in abundance like never before and it will be you washing away the fears held in the one you came to know as your pixie, saying to her, “Look up my child and find courage in your heart.” At that, the child of magic will smile and dance amongst your rains. The wind will glide upon the skin of the one you knew held a strength like no other and he will be reminded of your touch, you will say to him, “Never forget me for I will always be reminding you of the days of your boyhood whereof you played and laughed without a care!” The strong one will walk with reassurance of your advice. To the one who loyally loved, your sunshine will kiss her cheeks and she will think of you as you say to her, “My darling! You are universal and you shall never hurt your heart if you openly invite abundance and choose wisely to whom shall possess it.” The one who loyally loved will walk wisely as she feels your glow and warmth residing with her eternally. The grass will grow and the forest will sing your song to the one who never found herself, your song to the child of curiosity will sing like this, “My love, do not be anxious over losing your way, for never losing oneself is to have never lived, so let go of all the expectations they had for you and live freely,” and upon hearing your song the child of curiosity will feel the earth beneath her feet give her life and the wisdom of the aged trees being traced by her fingers will give her you, and all the promises of love you used to tell of to her.

You live in everything, we will never truly lose you for you are emblematic, captivating, living in every single thing and alive in every memory ever conjured by us! The children of you —The lamb, The pixie, The one holding strength, The one of loyal love, and The child of curiosity. We are you, and you are, and always will be, us.

- s