waking up before the dawn lends to a certain
perspective - the light has not yet come on,
and i sit in silence of early morning
dreaming of a dream once had.

memories flood these times of wakefulness,
and i wonder why they come back to me.
as if in some other world
they paint what was and what is.

what is now is only an extension
of the previous time spent.
they are not wholly new experiences
any more then they are soon to be different memories.

memories only hold me to the past
and blur the now.
they flash past uninvited
and sometimes unwanted.

the dawn breaks in a fog and drizzle
slowly waking with glimpses of sunlight
as i traverse through old mud into new dirt.
the closer i reel to now, the brighter the sky is lit
as some metaphor for this jaunt through past lives.

04/04/2009

Posted on 04/04/2009
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