Tempered Memories

Walking down the old path

worn out like the wrinkly edges of a grandma’s smile,

I retrieve my earliest memories

which come at me smiling and hugging like some distant relatives.

The light touches the world with different hues,

shaped by inner paintings of past life, recovered and cleaned like polished shoes.

And I see reality trembling

Allowing me to peek through the shroud of ageing:

A kindergarten, a church and candy shops,

all tracing a life by now long gone.

A carousel of chances they depicted in the serenity

of a child’s soul, still a nest for prosperity.

The awe of seeing shop windows filled with my most coveted toys.

The rush of glee fueled by simple joys.

The thrill of running my first errands

on behalf of younger and loving parents, holding on the illusion they were thus eternal.

Though now life I wear as a crumpled dress,

patched and unstitched the more Time undoes its mesh,

I welcome this tempered relishing

not too hot nor too cold, like instead are some more recent memories.

Sauntering along my childhood streets,

soaking the perfect nuance of its lingering bliss,

I see myself as I once was

and willingly drown in my nostalgic throes.