Something we have
Or something we’ve lost?
How much remains of what
Happened when it first took place?
I imagine that I see you clearly,
Every detail of our first embrace,
That I still hear each word you spoke,
And the tones of your voice
As you spoke them.Yet how much
Of what comes back may be illusion,
Born of longing for what
Might have been?
Conquer anger with love, evil with good, meanness with generosity, and lies with truth.