Continuum

Continuum

2-11-01 – 8-21-02

The past becomes so trivial

in the arms of present tense

What’s behind us will never equal

what we are feeling with each sense

Memories will dwindle

whether important to us or not

And the sensations are as hard to rekindle

as lighting a candle with a thought

But we cling to all of them

with dire love and with daring fear

for to not would be to condemn

everything that brought us here

If we are ever to love who we are

we must yield to what we can become

Even near the brightest star

the parts cannot outshine the sum