Another one down as the past is being laid to rest. Page by page I wander through moments lived so long ago. I ask myself where the time has gone. I wonder how much of it was wasted. Many verses have been written as cursed. Sometimes misled and blinded to their blessings. Perused hindsight is always seen with clearer eyes. Still, even though I lay them down I do not weep over their fading. There will be left for me page upon page of memories to last a lifetime. Just as there will be more to come should the blessing hold true. Where one is planted another will grow; hopefully bloom.

Just as every leaf has meaning to the tree, so does every page to a book. It is now that I look back and see every piece as a seed planted upon my path and am now in a forest entwined by peace. Here is the realization that it did not grow overnight. Even though it has sometimes been neglected it has more often been tended and nurtured. Now, at times, it seems I cannot see the tree due to the forest of thoughts surrounding me. I only hope to not let the path become too overgrown so that others may not follow. Though some are lain to rest, still others lay in wait for their birth.

So, there you have it; an epistle to the book of poetry that will emerge in the coming weeks. Every word written is a memorial to the past as well as a promise to the future. I hope that our written paths cross and perhaps merge into a life worth speaking of. For every eye that has bled due to the papercuts, there is a recognition that it would have no meaning without their reading. Another one down as the past is being laid to rest. Yet never is a one-word story. Such is the way of pebbles to the foundations that last. I hope that you will enjoy what has been as well as what is to come.