In the spaces that once held the ones we loved or loathed
are rooms where silence sits to wait upon us;
to precisely bring with it the thought that can caress,
if needed, or spur, if wanted.
And upon reflection the memories that have shaped us, and
subtly the choices within them to hold or unmake each one.
A centrifuge the potter’s wheel – the mind.
The choice always within our crafting gifts to mould,
to throw, to release or to refine.
Which memory will I spin today?
What forgiveness to bestow or fondness to befriend?
Such is the choice with silence my contemplation brings.