ode to the past

Oh Past, oh lovely beautiful Past,
How much further will you run from me?
At last, oh past, I shall see you at last,
That is if there is anything to see.
I am reminded rudely of how fast
Time continues to consume me.

The joyous laughter of some age long gone,
The sound of the wind that blows no more,
Are condemned to be drawn and redrawn,
Frozen in time and recounted in lore,
As still as the sky from dusk unto dawn,
As insignificant as sand on the shore.

Rudely people say, Forget the Past!
They live to look toward what is ahead.
But how much longer can this last?
How can they bear to forget the dead?
It’s all in the ego they have amassed,
That fresh paths alone they must tread.

People speak of how the Future is bright,
How one must strive to achieve it thus,
But brightness always relents to night,
The Future begins to crumble to dust,
Consumed by the all-consuming light,
Of the Past, in which all must trust.

Oh Past, oh lovely beautiful Past,
You are not all that far from me.
At last, oh past, when I see you at last,
I know there will be much to see.
And I am happily reminded of how fast
I am becoming part of thee.