Thinking about you

Nothing new

Comes to my view

Just some old images

From the pages

That we drew

Together.

 

They just keep flashing

Randomly

One after the other,

Some distorted and some preserved.

They don’t

Cause any significant clashing

Or disturb

Anything in my attention.

Just in the background

They like to hang around

And gather.

 

From where

They keep singing and dancing

They want to make sure

I am at least glancing

Over them.

 

This is how they want to keep alive

Our romancing.

Colors of my imagination

Keep redrawing

Your every motion

According to their own notion

For which they have

Their complete devotion

And their freedom.

 

So that the same memories

The images and the stories

Never get boring.

Staying sharp

And Keeping their glories

They allow me to do my browsing

Through my lenses

While they do their job

Of arousing

My senses.

 

All our laughter and our cries

The howling and the sighs

Emotions that we enjoyed

And the ones that destroyed

Our feelings

At times they show up screaming

And other times they just sneak in.

 

Just like some adorable friends

Whose company is enjoyable

And the foes

That wants to pretend

But are not so desirable.

Or like the ones that cannot be loved

But too much hatred

They also do not deserve.

 

Or like the clouds

That gives us the rain

And the ones that just remain

Hanging without any result

Causing our expectations

To suffer from their insults,

But still makes us happy

Just by staying around

And cooling the ground

In a hot and sunny day

Just by blocking the rays,

Helping us to beat

By taking the edge off the heat.

 

Memories and emotions

Even the ones

With certain kind of pains

I don’t feel like keeping my distance

I don’t need to refrain

Or show any resistance

They don’t drive me insane

In fact

Quite the opposite

Some of them would even fit

The requirements to be

Worthy of some repeat

As they were the pains

That made some of our experiences

Complete.

 

So thinking about you

The images and the emotions

Stand in a cue

And then they are played

Usually in no particular order

Evoking happiness sadness

And sometimes something

In between their borders.

But regardless

They are precious

As the link between

The present and the past,

Making the present

Worthy of its existence

As without them

There would be no sense

For its persistence.

By –

Kris Mojag

Somewhere in California in November of 2021 in a calm afternoon.