Where do memories from lost times belong? I am not even thirty, and yet I feel as if I have lived a hundred lifetimes, lifetimes of grief and sorrow, of joy and splendor, of peace and turmoil, shadow and ray; days of promise and deception, of laughter and defeat–all as one day. I have seen miracles I cannot believe, and yet I do. I have seen war in foreign lands and the death of friends before I had gone; I have witnessed the love of young men grow bold and the hearts of young women become like water before them. I have seen children lose their father to what should not be; I have seen blood poured out in the streets. I have known the love of a thousand friends; I have loved them all. I have known the hatred of an enemy and the kiss of betrayal. I have felt the hands of death depart from me, going downward in defeat. I have given life for life, as it was given to me. I have died a thousand deaths and been reborn a thousand more. Where do memories from lost times belong?
It is written elsewhere: “with the Lord one day is as a thousand years, and a thousand years as one day.“
So, what is this day?
#23
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