Lost and Found

While looking for and attempting to organise some photographs, I have come across many of my written pieces/thoughts/poetry from the recent and distant past.

(Oh no ! Not the poetry again !  I hear you exclaim).

I think this one is worth revisiting however, if only to show thankfulness and gratitude to whoever or whatever did "somehow help".  Obviously a culmination of many things, but I am pleased to say that I travelled through that dark and helpless place that I wrote of, and came out the other side and back to "normal" (relatively ! )

Hope others may identify.

Perhaps you could somehow help,

for all the things that I held dear

have left me.

Everything I thought I owned,

all the treasures of a personal world,

all that I called mine, gone.

And not just the material things.

But yes they are gone too.

The things that mattered and made me what I was, 

the books, ornaments, memory trinkets of the past.

Pictures, photographs and music.

All lie useless in this new unasked for life.

I did not see them disappear; I did not watch them go.

Their new whereabouts, and whether they will return, unknown.

The pleasure of the coming dawn against the slowly fading night

or watching a last piece of daytime slide behind clouds.

The smile, or cry, of my child’s child ;

the tiny hands, the questioning eyes, the innocent touch.

A loved ones embrace, a kind word , a cared for thought,

now meaningless and of no point in this place I now inhabit.

Of which I did not choose and can’t escape.

Stolen parts of me which make me into someone else.

Someone I do not like or wish to be.

Perhaps you could rescue me

and take me back

to what I was before.

copyright Brenda Gunning

@ Write - Place Publishing