What is a photograph
but a footprint of a moment?
Not the moment itself,
but a dim, partial voice left behind,
mute and motionless,
pointing silently toward the past,
only hinting at the richness
of the living narratives of human experience.
Flipping through the pages of the scrapbooks of my life,
I see the old photographs–
those faded footprints–and I remember.
Ghosts of friends and family,
captured in moments of time,
come to life again.
My joy, my desire, my sorrow and dreams, my love,
my stories are once more given bright, fiery substance
by the sheer force of memory.
When I am gone and you open this book
and look upon these pictures from my life
without my memories,
what will these silent sentinels reveal?
They will be gone, yet you will still see me,
captured in a series of moments
across dog-eared pages for you to remember
as you continue to shape your own journey,
as you leave behind your own footprints.