by Yolanda Reischer-Bohanec
There are memories.
Memories savored and sweet like sugar coated candied flowers on my cake.
Memories pondered and complex like the intertwining strings of a shawl, a keepsake.
Memories veiled and delicate like the tiny silver cover of my rosary case.
Memories of fear, crystal clear, like beads of rain beating on my window pane.
There are moments.
Perhaps a fleeting scent, the perfume of flower, we invoke sweet and dear
Perhaps the unexpected voice, the melody of a song we hear
Perhaps the lingering touch of a parting kiss we feel
Perhaps a presence imagined or real
Perhaps the loneliness we fear
Perhaps the end of we’re
There are minutes
Never ending strings of seconds like a litany of Ave Marias
The ticking of the clock
The beating of your heart
There is Silence
Vast and humbling
Arresting and Redeeming
And in the end
In every memory
In every moment
In every minute
There is love.
Love in the wave of pain upon into this world you entered.
Love in the ray of light upon away from it you float.
Love is the Doorway, entered and exited.
Love, the silver cord that binds us
Love, the knowledge of our eternal bond
Love is the bridge beyond
Love, the faith that is our strength
Love in you and me temporal
Love ever reaching through the portal