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Joy Saunders

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Crossed Paths

I can't forget the people I have known
for each has left a souvenir behind,
some special contribution of their own
to help to mould the thinking of my mind.

While everybody has a gift to give,
of their bequest they will be unaware,
but each crossed path leaves something positive
to be collected in life's thoroughfare.

Alone, in peace, my steps I can retrace
by browsing through the drawers in which I've stored,
wrapped in affection, name-labelled, with face,
the many priceless treasures in my hoard.

But, made up of so many parts procured,
what can I leave for others in my wake?
With all my acquisitions, I've matured
into another me who is a fake.

I've made a chain that links me to the past
and every link has helped me on my way.
The character I was has been recast…
transfigured into who I am today.

Page(s) 47

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