Some in places close at hand and others in lands, distant, green, and wild.
Sometimes, I feel them shifting and stirring. They are uncontrolled, relentless, leaving a burning deep at the core. They are in the eyes of little children, and in the hands of dear friends. They have empowered me, devoured me, lifted me, and left me numb.
They are the pieces of me.
They are the pieces of me.
But what is required of me, desired of me? I lay awake recounting the faces, the stories, the names. Wondering if they think of me as much as I them. Laughter, sadness, joy, disgrace. The memories that bind us, shaped us, most of all, made us.
What are they now, these relationships?
I have tried to leave every one of them better then when they were first encountered. Better for having known me.
How do express their meaning to me? With what words do I describe how much I feel them in my heart, longing to be with them? That they are with me, constantly; a plague of wonderful thoughts.
Is there anymore left to go around?
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