I was rummaging around in a few boxes today and came across a notebook from eight years ago. I was surprised to find a poem in it that I can’t remember writing. Here it is:
TENSE Live in the past Isn't that what old men do? And old women leaning backwards as youth moves on? The past is certain. It has happened either within or beyond our dreams, control, constraints. We can visit the past like an old sloppy jumper and wrap ourselves in its fading colours and familiarity. The past links our present with tugging arms, pulling in all directions ~ fleeting smiles, sodden tears, banalities that ebb and flow soaking our memories, watering our imaginations, flooding it with lessons, regrets, voices. And where is the future? Can we live in a land of hope or is this a tapestry yet to be woven? Tenses are just that- tense - passive, active, imperfect, pluperfect. I was, I am, I will be, or maybe, I didn't when I should have; I might have but I stood in the moment for too long. I'm in the moment now gazing at the moon and stars. This is my present and where I want to be; but am I suspended here as the world drives on ~ not in a white Volkswagon Beetle but in a tiny stream drifting down from the mountains to meet the ever waiting sea. Jean Tubridy

Beautiful, and I love it. 🙂
Glad you like it, Suz.
Very nice!
Thanks so much.
You’re welcome!
Very meaningful, our past is the foundation that we build our future on. I t had better be a secure one with no fissures to stare us down in the years to come…You’ve said it all
Love the interpretation, Joni.
Love it..
Thanks. Cris.
I really like it Jean 💜