Thoughts approach us, softly.
It is our duty to recognize them.
It is our recognition that gives them power.
The process of acquiring knowledge and understanding
The thoughts were always there,
waiting, like old friends,
we just had to remember,
Faded, like old photographs,
but still familiar faces.
the books you found up in your attic.
You’d expect them mothballed, stale, unusable,
but you remembered.
Fresh and new as ever,
Their spines had held them together.
Your fingerprints sink in to the pages on the old paths they had worn.
You remember the coffee stain from 2006.
You can taste it.
It is still in your cup.
It is still yours.
kept patient for a while,
waiting for you to recognize,
to understand again.