Locked in a prison of my thoughts
Each memory passes,
like a series of robotic guards.
Each pausing only long enough
to ensure I see they are there.
Then moving on.
But my eye is drawn to one repeatedly
I bask in the feeling that lingers
It sooths my mind
and yet, there is a quickening
an expectation of things to come.
I see the past and future merging
It becomes the thing we call present
Because if we live it fully
It truly is a gift. |
Submission Name: Past-Present-Future?
