Memories Of Life
Everywhere we go; our mind takes a picture;
chronicling all landscape and sound;
nothing was designed as a permanent fixture;
all life is transition bound.
We think that we travel by using our feet;
but, feet are merely physical illusions;
consciousness is where words always meet;
and thoughts, draw their own conclusions.
We think that we, each, are a separate entity;
peering on a whole universe, outside;
instead we’re a conglomerate of divinity;
foolish enough to try and hide.
Every stoplight, we see; holds memories;
they’re found; wherever we go;
climate’s illusions; cause sensitivities;
whether due to wind, rain, or snow.
Every building, we see; has stories to tell;
and, every life; much the same;
other memories; dwarfed by, thoughts of hell;
and calculations of who’s to blame.
Memories of a heavenly garden; above;
not revealed by physical eyes;
devoid of hate; and ruled by love;
the place life goes; when it dies.
We are God’s actors; entering a stage;
enduring many seasons of strife;
we are His words; filling each page;
pages in the book called life.
Monty 2/28/2024. # 2,030