Nighttime Reflections

If I could go back in time and change anything, it would be, to be more consciously present.

Conscious of every moment, of every memory created.

Conscious of every word spoken and small act taken.

Present with my children mostly, and family and friend.

There with them, not ruminating within.

More than any other thing, my experience with anxiety and depression stole from me such precious, fastly fleeting moments.

And when I mourn within this empty missing feeling, this grief of having been captive to my own plague of internal miseries;

A still small voice offers me some redemptive measure of solace;

Whispering, “nothing is lost, nothing forsaken.”

And I am comforted knowing, all is stored for me, a treasure trove waiting, for me to open one day again.

Every recollection of presence I thought wasted, kept safe to be relived again.

Eternity holds safely, every picture not taken, every moment neglected and redeems every unconscious, unawakened second I had mistakenly left un-cherished.

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