- Abigail Gilbart-Smith
Twenty treasures mined for in memory’s maze-
A hazy mess left behind of long and short
Days and all that lay quiet in our minds
Amidst the screams and shouts of desperation-
Don’t let them out; stay inside.
Twenty questions-
A game we played, but no answers
Yet given to each fragile heart-
A mask to hide a smile,
For joys are hard to find in this frenzy,
Friends so far away; worries
There are too many
Rules and restrictions
For weary wanderers pace up and down,
Isolated in cramped spaces-
There is too much space between us.
Too many lives lost to count,
Too many hours left unlived.
Those (barely living) drift in and out,
Days like strangers to the ticking clock-
It seems time stood still,
For others it has stopped.
Twenty treasures
Mined for in memory’s maze:
Those fading as with fickle minds
We gaze upon those gone,
Beyond uncertainty, the harsh reality:
Time’s final say.
We sit and sift through her open page.
For so many of us 2020 was characterised by weariness and disappointment, worries and deep sorrow. I wrote this poem at the start of the new year reflecting on all that had come to pass and knew it would be disingenuous to simply brush over the loss that demands to be felt. Yet, although as in these lines the sadness often screams the loudest, there are treasures to be found and hope to be felt. In time’s tapestry, though dark in so many places, silver threads of joy and love can be seen woven throughout. The final say of time, which takes away each treasured moment in its stride, can often feel so harsh; still, its testimony carries all that memory may mar and forget.
In some of my lowest moments, however, it was not through the lens of reminiscence that I found the greatest hope, but in the reality of my relationship with Jesus. His life rising over death showed me that beauty can be brought out of brokenness, and his deep love and friendship have sustained me through all life’s frenzies this year. Where memory may fail, this love is always a treasure to be found.