What is a memory if not a dream formed from the stones of life,
the distilled spirit of the will that pushes me forward and towards the summit,
towards the sun…
The sound that crosses my lips becomes the voice of my nostalgia,
the silence, rhythm, the beat is of my thoughts that try to find you…
But in darkness memories lose their hues, their shades, their meaning,
as their power to evoke the love that once raced down the highway of forever
has been lost to a nostalgia
that transforms each step I take,
and recreates each memory
with events that I can’t recall ever occurred.
The words that my voice now carries are the bones of my nostalgia,
the skin has been ripped quite off in my quest to try to find you…
But in the summit light surrounds the weary traveller,
and on the clouds dance the colours, the hues, the shades
that were ripped from my nostalgia,
and they transform each thought that I now ponder upon,
and caress each memory with the gentle touch
of forgetfulness…
There’s nothing worse than nostalgia for something that never occurred…
C.2023, Francisco Bravo Cabrera, 24 NOV 2023, Valencia, Spain
CHEERS
JaZzArt en València 
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Phenomenal!
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Thank you so much Dawn!
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The many facets and levels of your creativity never cease to amaze me, Francis! Stunning!
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Thank you so much Janet! Greetings and all the best!
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Welcome 🙏 freinds
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Very nice
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Thank you so much Nora!
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