Winds of change and winds of the spirit
5/15/17 at 05:50 AM 0 Comments


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He turned over the pages of his life,
One by one;
He read them over and over,
As if to remind himself
That he was that person;
Ready to turn over a new leaf
Ready to start over,
Ready to make good.

There was just one page without
Any writing on it;
A blank one;
He pondered it again and again,
Puzzled that it was empty;
How could one page in his life
Be mssing and empty?
Impossible, yet there it was,
On that one page there was no
Writing, no record, nothing,

That one page troubled him,
Had the writing been removed?
Had he errased it from his memory?
Or had someone else erassed it?
What happened on that day that
Was a blank?

Not to have any writing was momentous,
Something that no words could express?
So it had to be momentous and unthinkable!
Yes that was it. Unthinkable, unnerving,

He became obsessed with that one page.
Was that the page he had let his life go?
Was that page the key to his lost self?
His lost self?

Just one page empty?
Was every page other than this one, empty?
It was raining outside, dismal fine rain
But he went out to look for that one page.

The newspaper office was open,
He went inside.
He went through past editions,
Each one full of news and life.
He came to that one page.
Hiroshima, it said, 'Destroyed'
His wife's name was there, 'a great loss
To the community; husband Frank found
Wandering the streets of New York,
Insensible and insane.'

Now he understood.
He had no memory of that one page.
It was a blank and must remain a blank.
Marlene was in 'Japan visiting her
Relations,' it said.
So that was why the page was blank
There was no page big enough to write
On it.

That one lost page
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