Memories of what has passed, and what is soon to come

Faded scenes of hazy screens that illuminate bereft rooms

Eyes of youth glance upon translucent symbols

Faded gods who once transcended worlds like forgotten stars

Thoughts of them linger in the catacombs of the human heart

The great stars have fallen, but they shall never land

Meteors in spirit, what never came to be

Naught but a flash of light across a night sky

One of many, not meant to be remembered

Existence now relative

Nostalgia

An ode to something intangible

Not fully memory, but not yet thought

Existing in a strange in-between

Comfort is taken in the undefined where it sleeps

At a crossroads between longing for the past and wanting for the future

Fantasizing about something already experienced

Who longs for rosebuds in a field abloom?

An ode to primal memories   

Innate memories highlight primordial brains

Nostalgia, an ode to human ingenuity

The brain’s little filmmaker

Consistently playing its own highlight reel

A snow globe, each particle of snow a world of its own

Nostalgia emerges like a treasured artifact found decrepit in a room

 Nestled by spiderwebs, dust beginning to settle on its faint glow

All it takes is the wipe of a hand

To revel ancient beauty underneath

Of a surface no longer besmirched

Shimmering jewel tones dance on fractured beams

For the first time in what was to them an eternity

Nostalgia

Satellite flickering of the human heart

Beaming out through an empty void

The northern lights through a pitch-black sky

Memories in constant conception

The human spirit in a cycle of constant reminiscing

The past in cruel fate becomes the present

The future has already been remembered

The feelings of fondness of an aspect of one’s past life

Exists in a space without time