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Ripples
 

As time passes.
Memories appear as transient as ripples on the seashore.
Flowing out to sea they take their place with the one.
We weave our memories and lives together.
Taking delicate strands we bind them strong.
In the passing of time a single strand may wear and breakaway.
We who remain pick up the strands to weave our web,
Stronger, tighter than before.
Memories always are, just that.
We choose to use them as we may.
The threads we weave, we are weaving now.
We choose to weave them,
Stronger or weaker than before.
They come, they go.
Ebbing and flowing as the tides
And the unceasing ripples on the seashore.

Jan (Darkwillow 2006)