I walked in a garden
Of forgotten things
There I found the childhood
That I had left behind
And in it
And among it
I unearthed a mother’s promise
to always love me
no matter who I was
Inside
or
Out
I heard the song
From the throats of songbirds
Locked in gilded cages
Scattered dreams
From a thousand dreamers
Smelted in the fire of necessity
Beaten on the anvil of lost hope
And forged into laborers
To labor without inspiration
Their metal does not ring
not even here
There I walked the beaten path
Overgrown with weeds
Of forgetfulness
Misery
and shame
That meandered through the garden
That spiraled out in some
Half-finished design
I tripped upon the adoration
That a woman had never given
a man had refused to take, a child had not received
That a widow had finally forgotten
In those last moments of bittersweet relief
And now it blossoms here
And with it blooms the perennial grief
Of heartbreak that
Is usually forgotten
But sometimes not
Here and there I saw the memories
That slipped away like water
Running through the fingers
Of a distracted mind
Once I felt the music
Heard it rise upon the wind
And its melody was timeless
The most intricate of harmonies
But it was never written, never played
It wallowed in the silence
All music needs a listener
And I had soon moved on
It rained
sometimes
Each drop was a tear
Someone cried
Because they couldn’t remember
Or didn’t want to
I wandered that garden
And I scoured its fruit
The flowers of its pathways, the seeds that had been sown
until
One day the mirrors
That hung from the branches of the trees of unrecognized sacrifice
Told me
That I was but another trinket
Lost in the garden
That I had been forgotten, too