In Absence

It is possible to forget, to lose one's investment in being connected and engaging. It is probable that lack of familiar liaisons will diminish the rush of passion, the surge coursing through sinew and spirit delivering vitality. We can forget even that which is primary to personal essence.

The unused muscle withers. Creative ideas become faded memories and memories are soon enough forgotten, evaporated wisps dissipating across expanding horizons.

Yet, there is in all of such profound leaving and loss something that endures and that piece, no matter how small, abides eternally engrained within. Leaving, being separated from those things and people that affect us so throughly isn't really possible, not really. We are made of the remnants that remain, woven, remembered into a quiet brilliance.