A Walk
Into the passages of time I travel
Large corridors lined with cabinets of forgotten memory
Some extrude from their resting place
As if someone couldn’t close it ,
Releasing. Evaporating. Diffusing its contents into the corridor like a lingering mist.
The air thickens with the contents of this memory.
Breathing it. Feeling it. Enveloped by this memory, I fall into a trance
A swirling of images form in front of me.
A flash of images of a smile, of laughter, of first love, of first embrace.
Another flash of cries, of silent pain, of silent tears.
The emotions. The emotions reach out and reach for my heart.
I tear away from it but it engulfs me. It enrages me. It breaks me.
I stumble over an open cabinet drawer. This wasn’t open.
More and more drawers open. A flash of light.
The thickened air dissipates and I am now alone.
I lie on the cold floor realizing all the cabinets once open were now closed.
My heart is still racing. Adrenaline is still present in every inch of my body. My heart is still a concoction of mixed emotions not knowing whether to cry. Not knowing whether to laugh. Not knowing to not feel.
I walk further down and one cabinet is slightly protruding from the infinitely long corridor of cabinets that stretch into infinite space.
A light emanates from its slight crack making the corridor seem somewhat dimmer.
I approach this cabinet drawer and as I get closer, I feel the warmth radiating into the depths of my body, its heat saturating every cell of my being. I open it. A warmth embraces me and all I see is a pair of nail pierced hands. The next image flashes and it is of an empty tomb. A final image materializes : An empty cross.
The light fades and the cabinet is closed. But the memory that is contained in this drawer somehow saturates the air in this passage of memory and time.
Jon's Prose and Poetics
Welcome to my Page of Written Prose and Poetics. A lot of them probably don't rhyme or anything but I just kinda wrote them thinking of a song. Hopefully, these will somehow inspire you to keep hoping, and keep believing. I might add some other stuff not written by myself but perhaps have had great meaning and inspiration to me in times of joy and sorrow. All writings are copyrighted by Jon Ho 2001-2007
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