Memory's Window {a poem I wrote}

 I'm in the poetry unit of my language arts book, and I had to write a poem (heh, heh...really? no...^^). It started out simply, but it became something much...deeper than I originally realized.

I'd love for it to be read and critiqued. And as always, please don't copy without asking. It is my work, after all.

Memory’s Window
Hannah Nicole, 2009
 

The gleam of golden hair eludes me,
Ever-present power of memory—Gone.
The past is still, the clouds surround me,
Sun is dimmed by darkness’ throng.

Childish laughter, dancing, twinkling of eyes,
Windows to yesterday lifted again,
Clouds unveiled, beams of light,
And I gaze in wonder at was once been.

My eyes stare at those of mine own,
A matching pair, less wearied by life’s age.
This younger self, entwined in memory,
A rose’s blossom, untouched, unstained.

The golden glow of sun-browned hair,
Shining blue orbs, untainted by life’s stain,
A soft youthful form, rounded and pure,
Rosy cheeks, innocently gained.

Now compared to this wraith-like hold enclosing me,
Once compared and now let be.
Life laughs at me cruelly,
And I lean towards ambiguity.

As I stare at was once,
The vision shimmers and—laughs—at me,
And leaps! Through the beams of sunlight play,
Leaving me alone, in lost, listless misery.

I reach out, cry out, sit in the dark,
Holding onto my fears and complaints.
My pain once felt, now held threefold,
My purposes built only for mine own gain.

The curtain blows softly, allowing a glimpse, but a glimpse,
Not of what was, but what could still be.
Happiness, laughter, songs and smiles,
Tender loves and joys given mercifully.

I glance at the vision, try to see it clearer,
But the wind again shifts and the curtains settle closed,
And I wonder as to why, the feelings were different,
And what happened to change agonies hold.

A light shines brightly—powerfully—strong,
Sturdy and wholesome, beatific and great,
A voice whispers quietly, yet echoing, echoing,
And a song reverberates, reverberates.

The chorus of angels began in the quiet,
Windows once closed, flung open again,
Darkness gone, light now surrounding,
And joy now replacing the harsh—harshest pain.

Be still, be quiet, and listen again,
Remember the tender mercies of youth,
The beauty that lived in everyday life,
The joy that sang, and resonated truth.

Why so? Who sang the beauty forth?
Who brought it to life and gave purpose anew?
Who danced in the stars, and created the earth,
And who made and blessed each one of you?

Realization washes over me like a wave,
I cry as I realize what was once had, and then gone,
The days of youth, held each with a purpose,
The joys of the Trinity’s song.

And then the fanfare leaves, the herald is gone,
A quiet and misty room is all that is left.
The curtains sways softly, and closes again,
The light that fades, yet the darkness bereft.

But the dream not in vain, the memory not tainted.
The truth resonates still, untouched by the flesh,
Faith holds hope and dreams, loves and wonders,
Childlike innocence caught again in the mesh.

The room glows softly, and the echoes remain,
Wisps of the vision float in the room.
Untouched, untainted, faintly intangible, yet seen,
Life given purpose again, and gone is the doom.

I smile and gaze around me, my heart light and free,
My soul dances and leaps, my heart now sings.
Memory’s window has opened and changed me,
God has given a vision, which has made real a dream.