Ghosts of Our Former Selves

photoDaybreak Returns

From the grasslands, from the marshes, from the margins of the moor

Rise up misty ghostly creatures in the pearly light of dawn,

Some mementos, revenants or sylph-like spirits past and gone

To the brink of ancient memory and up to its creaking door,

People whom we, fond, remember or with some frisson of heart,

Those who populate our past, storied as fabled gods and kings,

Filled with magic and wild treasure and a million pretty things

That we wish we might have honored as such value from the start—

So at daybreak they come whispering, returning, silver-grey

Without tarnish in their sterling, as they rise up in our sight

And return to us those memories had fallen into night,

Bringing back that love and loveliness of theirs to present dayphoto

7 thoughts on “Ghosts of Our Former Selves

  1. You remind me of a line from the song “If I loved You” in Carousel, although I’ve never been sure if the word there is mist or midst: “Off you would go in the mi(d)st of day.”

    • Well, I looked it up, and it’s ‘mist’, apparently. Works either way equally in my book. As it *is* the midst of day here–and I now have that lovely song running through my head (hadn’t heard it in ages!)–I’m quite content to let the melody take over and whatever words want to fill in the spaces are welcome.

      • By coincidence I saw a new production of the show on PBS a few days ago, and the singers clearly said “mist.” In this version the orchestra really came into its own (it was the New York Philharmonic, after all) and made the show into something I’d never perceived from the original Broadway cast album or the Hollywood movie version.

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