Embers

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

continually flickering. 

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!