memories

memories do not exist if we don’t stop and chant them 
to those who have shared them with us

memories walk with our own feet on the streets of the world 
they dwell folded and stowed in the luggage of our soul 
and they come back to life
 every time we resume our journey 
on the trails of the world

memories are not a fixed image in space and time 
  memories are nothing if we do not recall them 
and when we call them, memories achieve a new life 
 and then they take off and fly away 

or maybe it’s us flesh and blood, soul and heart, lymph from the earth 
it is us chasing the memories
 in our foolish rush to an unknown 
past that 
yet 
is
not 


Marco Bo

http://cantidallaperiferiadelmondo.blogspot.it/2014/06/i-ricordi.html