The Keeper of the Years

The Keeper of the Years

Gave me one back today

It was a year in which

I was oh so very happy

And I had forgotten it

Because the next year

Was very sad

Sometimes a sad year

Can make you forget

A happy year

And even though

It is very hard

To forget a sad year

Happy years like to use

Their happiness

To run around the world

And the memory of them

Can be very hard to catch

Sad years are sticky

And that makes them

Very hard to get of

Even though they can’t harm you

Once they’ve passed by

The Keeper of the Years

Is the one in charge

Of all the years

And the memories

They’re made up of

But if you forget a year

The Keeper can give it

Back to you

But she rarely does

Because with each day

We make more memories

And the Keeper knows

That a person can only hold

So many memories

Before they become heavy

With all that frantic happiness

And all that gummed up sadness

I went to the Keeper of the Years

And asked her

If I could have

A happy year back

There was no way to ask

For a specific year

Since you can’t remember

What it is

You can’t remember

But I knew there had to be

At least one lost year of happiness

That I no longer

Carried with me

There was so much sadness

That I was sure

There had to be happiness

Hiding them somewhere

The Keeper of the Years

Listened to my plea

And went into her bag

Of all the years

And for a moment

It appeared that I was wrong

And there was nothing lost

Only a lifetime

Of sad times

And misfortune

But then, a smile slipped

Across her face

And I saw that she had

Found something

She thought could be mine

What she pulled out

Was a tiny pearl of a year

With what looked like

A bright light

In the middle of it

And all around the light

Swirled numbers

And letters

That made up stories
I never remembered telling

And days I couldn’t recall living

When I held the pearl

In my hand

A year rushed back

Of family and friends

And great adventures

And things I couldn’t believe

I had left behind

In my mind

‘How could I have forgotten this,’

I asked the Keeper of the Years

Finding that my elation
At regaining a year

Was quickly turing

To frustration with myself

For having been so careless with it

In the first place

The Keeper of the Years

Had me come stand by her side

So she could open her bag
And let me look in

At all the years

That have ever been lost

“But look,” she said, “They’re still lit up, aren’t they?

The light never goes out

They shine until someone

Comes looking for them”

The Keeper put her hand

On my shoulder

As she said--

“How they were lost is of

No interest to them

Only that one day

Someone asks

To see them again”