By Gene Monin
We are always making memories today for our tomorrows.
In the fireplace, the log sings as it burns, and our imagination thinks it is releasing all the bird songs the tree stored up for years.
When the tree was full grown, the birds sang in its branches, the music was absorbed by the tree. It was held there until the wood was burned and the songs were set free.
The tree did not store up the wild wind sounds of the storms and thunderclaps it also experienced, only the good sounds.
There is a lesson for us, to keep. The people who keep only bad memories alive show their memories in their sour faces in their last years.
Those who were always smiling and cheerful when young keep their beauty and cheerful faces in their nineties.
Our happy memories sink into our hearts and stay there, seemingly lost forever. Then trials and troubles come into our lives, and those fires release the memories again.
Sometimes all that is left in old age is to talk about the past many years ago and revive the fires of happiness we had. Those memories sweeten the present life with its aches and pains.
If we are wise in our youth we will fill our hearts with pure and pleasant thoughts to lay up blessings for old age.
As we think, so we are.
Thank you, Gene Monin of Ontario Canada for submitting this poem.
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