Where once the bright and glorious
now only embers lie
and flicker ever slightly so
as if to say they know
they once were a fire.
The moon’s not sad when cut in half,
the sun sets with a smile,
and winter trees do not mourn
the loss of summer’s beauty.
As all that once was dies and lies
in the archives of good memory
they are the embers of my life
I douse them with the present times
and term them natural cycles
and yet there’s that flickering
on and on and on.
So when we turn the corner
from the then unto today
how can we still not love the fire
and know winter turns to summer?
I love the fire that once was you
but of those embers still alive
they’ll flicker in my heart always ~
because, simply because, because
you once were the fire
that chased the cold away!