We all have our stored sensitivities,
Not exactly hidden,
More placed away for safe keeping.
We have them guarded.
We amble on knowing exactly,
Exactly where they are.
Also knowing why it is important
To, to hold on to them.
These are not objects or things
Of which I speak.
I refer precisely to
Periods of time or events earlier.
The soaking in emotions
And the drenchings of the soul.
Of forest dawns and that first light.
The synchronicity of the sudden.
Of discovery, and of someone significant.
Like having the searing heat of a desert,
In someone of whom the sands of Time
Will not allow to pass beyond memory,
Or be filtered out and into the distance.
This kindred heart beats slower now
But is still for the sake of the treasures shared.
And that two true interlooping spirits
Abide safe in my treasured space.
C 2019 Christopher Thompson
All rights reserved