( click on the live motion link below to get that lovely crackling fire sound ?)

 

On cold winter nights like these

When flaming hues of orange and red 

flicker and sway upon the walls 

of a darkened room

 

The past can find its way back

 

Seeping out of cracks, long-since filled

Through floorboards, long-since replaced

Soft and hushed, 

ingrained in the periphery

The flames luring memories from shadows 

to join in perfect ambience

 

As the wine glass tilts in my hand

For a moment I see not my room at all,

but an echo of what once was:

High ceilings framed with beautifully elaborate coving

The fireplace, now huge and ornate

Logs crackling, embers drifting

I feel the warmth, and soft caress 

of generations tragically forgotten

 

The whisper of a little girl

runs through the memory of a doorway 

She giggles. 

I only catch a glimpse

But, I know she's gone to hide

In a room that no longer exists

In a time long-since past

'I can't come find you,' I startle myself by saying...

And find my own room returned

My eyes somehow sodden 

My wine spilling

I jump up to fetch a cloth 

and, hopefully, dab away

the melanoma upon the rug...

 

But, I take a moment,

a breath to clear my head

I look to the wall

where once a doorway

led to a hiding place

 

'Perhaps one day, I'll find you,' I whisper 

 

One day, when I'm in the periphery myself

Conjured by the dancing flames

In this darkened room

 

On a cold, winter's night, such as this.

 

 

Live picture by

The Motion of Pictures