What is it about friendships? some burn bright and furious, flare fleetingly then fade, coming to mind only occasionally without any regret at their passing. others simmer gently, a long gestation that when poked with a stick blaze for a time and spark with promise before fizzling out until the next disturbance provoked eruption. then there are those that are as steadfast and immovable as Ayers Rock, part of the landscape of life, looming, hovering, always in the mind's eye even when out of sight.
The universe has blessed me with a multitude such as these, etched out of the stone of time and shared sorrows, supported by laughter and whispered confidences, upheld by steadfastness and kindness.
No matter how many hours or years pass between contact it's as though we have been linked since the foundation of the earth. time becomes a meaningless construct, having as little relevance as age to an ant. conversation continues as though paused simply for a breath. affection flows freely, unfettered and unaffected by distance.
We are as bookends, bracketing our present with what has passed and what is yet to come, our memories a nimbus following behind, wraiths in the winds of time.
You, my friends young and old, are imprinted on my soul, you have helped form me into the human i am today..........and i am so thankful for you.
Bookends Theme (1:23) P. Simon, 1968Old friends Old friends Sat on their park bench Like bookends Time it was, and what a time it was, it was A time of innocence, a time of confidences Long ago, it must be, I have a photograph Preserve your memories; They're all that's left you