Trigger Memory

Time has folded on itself,
every step I take further
into moss-covered, cobbled streets
and surrounded by sun-bricked suites
housing minute circles of education.
I stop to breathe before
the waves of nostalgia surge
over me, threatening violence.
Shaking, nearly shivering,
I venture forward, unfamiliar faces
overlapped by familiar thoughts.
Memories trigger, my footsteps
on timeless landmines.
I find time has been most unkind
to my memory.
Emerging unscathed, though certainly fazed,
my eyes continue to wander.
Should I wonder any longer
that all is the same, yet
so very different?
All is an ephemeral carnival
of blurred reminiscence.
Opportunities lost, mistakes
cemented by foolish character,
childish rashness burning countless
bridges out of fear of persecution,
only to gain sure tribulation
on the soul.
How much searching
of my frail soul, did I go?
Knowing this soul of mine could die,
I sought redemption in Christ.
And now, after a perfect number
of years, I return.
I have changed,
yet my memory insists
that something of myself lingers
as I continue to wander through
oft-remembered halls.
I have changed,
but the walls insist
some part of me remains the same.
Be it as it may,
I'm not the same man
I was when I was in the midst
of insecurity and an unknown future.
I stand in the face of such uncertainty
beside the One who's guided me along.
Time itself has changed.
Its folds show this to be the case.
I walk on, content with the way
things are going.
Nothing new will stay.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A poem about my current feelings concerning my return to the very University I dropped out of.

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