and so the ash falls from the memories that burn, peacefully and silently. but it becomes the ground becomes the plants and trees and all the world around me.
it becomes my feelings about life and
and strangers on park benches, and fathers pushing babies in prams through shopping centres. baristas who know your name, know the kind of milk you take. and then there are all those travellers you meet and love along the way.
in kindness and goodness and altogether loveliness, i’ll make more memories, everyday. as if it always mattered, it always does, it always will. i’ll make beautiful memories. take photos with my heart. capture conversations with my mind. flood my soul with feelings and saturate my entire being with love.
memories to ashes. so peaceful and so silent.