Sometimes

Sometimes if I am very still, I can feel them

Not with my fingers that used to weave their way

through their fur ... but with my heart.

 

Sometimes when I'm quiet, I can see them

Not with my eyes that used to shine

at the sight of their faces - But in those

special places nestled deep inside.

 

Sometimes when I'm high on the mountain,

I can hear them

Not with my ears that captured the happy

sounds they made

But from echoes in my memory.

 

And sometimes ...

the lonely times, I feel a terrible kind of sorrow

Not in my mind that cried out in anguish when they left

But from a pain nurtured deep in my soul.

 

Sometimes ... only sometimes ...

that pain can be hard to bear. So I climb high on

the mountain, the cool wind in my hair

And remember how it once was, and feel

this fierce kind of joy.

Knowing that once upon a time for a little while ...

I had it all. - Sometimes, it is enough.

 

(Author unknown)