Ruminations Over Morning Coffee

More of an exercise in writing then poetry

   The ones we truly loved are never truly gone…
Until they’re fully forgotten.
They existed in in our corporeal world of
Substance then: in our world of physicality
And also of mortality.
But now perhaps they’ve simply taken up
Residence in a very real, yet very different world:
The world of memories.

   The ones I loved are still close by me. Only now
They dwell within my mind. No less alive
Then they were before and perhaps
Even more so now.

   To me at least, they’ve only traded
One plane of existence for another
One in which they’re always happy,
And forever young (if you wish them to be)
And are seen, felt, loved and live
in my memory.  

   So, the way I figure it is:
They’re just as alive in my memory
As they were before in life
And they won’t take leave
Until I can leave with them.
Perhaps to take residence
In another’s fond memories

   And if and when, we’re finally forgotten
Then, and only then, do we truly take leave
…and begone…

Author's Note

My take on life and death