Ode to Recyled Reading

Dedication:

To the second hand bookshop in Epping, Sydney.

Empty.
Where do in find the words?
Is the smell still there?

If we where to gather all the memories of  people who have lingered...
Could we recreate you? No.
But we can lament as one.

I remember reading, traveling, and seeing little notes.
Oh, let us adventure and benefit from the tales of others.
All that is left is the clock, telling the time we forgot.

In our hearts and in our shelves we will keep.
Just like the little treasures placed upon the wall.
For now is the time for us to share your story.

Memory

I can hurt
I can fade.
I can make you want to hide.

When you think over things said and unsaid.
When you think about what you have and have not done.
When you think on all things past and future.

I am memory.
I will not go away.
I am not entirely bad.

Some instances, you may recall,
are not just there to drive you up the wall.
Some make you smile and laugh and stand tall.

Although you may recoil and avoid
the recollections that you wish to forget and ignore.
Allow me to point to the times you have endured and had faith.

In all things faith and hope can be clung to.
In all circumstances you can be still and know that God is God.
In all things God works for the good of those who love him.

Rest and remember the merciful God who loves you regardless.
Rest and remember that through all your emotions he is with you.
Rest and remember that when you do not love yourself...

God always has and always will.