Old Long Since

Last night, I sat in a circle of old people as the sun had moved on and turned the eternal west into shades of scarlet, orange, and purple.  Old clouds, old star, old sky, old west, and much younger people.  Truth is relative.  Much of my youth I had cannoned into this circle, the unbroken circle of memories so deeply lived as to make them nearly sacred.  The unbroken circle of youth.  They are now my ancient of days, those days when we first realized we were alive, and lived in gusto and meaning, when our bodies were exquisite vessels of life and beauty, now scarred and worn, holding all those memories I had poured into them.  Compassion and love are the drinks of God, mixed in vessels lived together, and I was draining mine to the dregs as I sat among these dear people, my ancient of days, those souls that now held so much of me in my memory form…and I held theirs, their memories of our ancient days Old Long Since.