where does memory come from?
somewhere beneath the skin?
from our shared tapestry of language?
is it a mantra we repeat
all our life long
as we count each bead on the string?
or is it abiding in silence?
is it a leaf shimmering in a tree?
does it live in our bones?
does it descend down shafts of moonlight?
or is it countless scribbled drawings
made over a lifetime?
does it behave like a prism?
throwing different colores
depending on the time of day?
can you put it in your back pocket?
does it depend on motion? on verb?
must it be held and sung to?
does it depend on an I?
and what if we come to stillness
in the center of the raging storm?
where is memory then?
--Lorena Lobita Wolfman © 2011