Living the Poem by Steve Robison

I sat on the edge of the pond, today. Pondering what might have been. Wondering about choices I’ve made. Reveling in a few moments of doubt and recrimination. I was lost in a dozen thoughts, lost in self….

I’m not quite sure how long that moment lasted, but it seemed that the shadows moved more than a little. I suppose it matters little. Time passed, I followed. I was gently nudged from the place of there, back to here, back to the pond. I seem to remember the sound of ripples, though, in retrospect, that seems more than a little unlikely. Nonetheless, whether by sound or movement, or a subtle change in the glimmers of light reflecting off the pond now in motion, I found my way back to the here and now….

It was in that dreamy state, of thought, of movement, of glimmer, of pond, of mind, of ripples, that I heard the voices. I remember thinking they were angels. Seems as good an explanation as any….

In that melodious choir of subtle voices, that seemed to emanate from the glimmer, to flow with the ripples, to derive from the heavens, a poem spoke itself to me….

thoughts of the past
shared with a friend
connected eternally
sacred bond without end

if we are all joined
as the One said we’d be
brother and sister
unbreakably tied, free

there is no old
nor is there new
all is forever
between me and you

Seemed kinda important to remember, so I did. And as I share with you, I share with me. And the poem becomes my truth. And you become my truth. And I, yours.