wistful brevity

i looked upon your,

divine

beauty,

of female,

wrought,

of God's own hand

your voice,

created by his mind

assembled by subatomic

quantum particles,

made,

into wonderous sound

your hair,

. . . skin

your radiant glory

reflected by the eyes of God,

i see through them

glorious reflectors,

of light

imprinting

my own facial image,

as i look into them

my precious love,

mirrored into mine own . . .

i then saw yesterday,

by the sound,

of ancient songs

played into my childhood

so long ago

but not so,

so brief,

like a theft,

left forlorn

a scant 70 years ago

youthful times

eons seemingly

far far ago

yet

so brief

like a theft

left forlorn . . .

and now,

my beloved

i reach for you,

aged skin,

broken body parts,

youth has been destroyed

, . . nostalgia kills me,

slowly

painfully

which i can never regain

nostalgia mocks me

you can never have her

never again

suffer only,

in my memory

that spirit

nostalgia

she taunts,

i am only a memory

you may never return,

to those moments

of youth

abandoned,

however beautiful

. . . the wonders of nature

of our magnificent earth

no longer thrill me

i thirst unquenchably,

for newness,

and yet,

no new thing

interests me

for the vanity

of life's end is here

its end is indestructible

its power disillusions me

where is my comfort?

i taste the bitterness of brevity

the stark reality of it

crushes me

who will restore

your former youth

your strength

your love eternal

your gentle touch

your laughter

where have you gone?