Rewind
Often, I find myself at my very wits end;
I can’t understand how life’s designed;
so many things happen; I cannot defend;
I must take a deep breath and rewind.
A motion picture casting light on screens;
creating a stubborn illusion of life;
a library of reels, contains all our dreams;
projected, when we turn off the light;
Our mind is much like that movie projector;
shedding the light on each thought;
my mind’s images, are a ghostly spectre;
rather than a form of reality wrought.
We’re unable to cast light on our own tomorrows;
tomorrow doesn’t permit a sneak preview;
but, rewinding the film, we can see past sorrows;
it’s on our spare reel; passing in review.
My mind; the auto graveyard of past events;
but, it seems, I’m not in control;
it’s constantly scrolling my table of contents;
for sadness that touches my soul.
Who is the Master of my thought’s theater;
selecting the memories to feature;
the mind, which acts as a memory realtor;
seems He’s most likely, my teacher.
Many storms of life, lay buried in the past;
with blue skies ahead in my mind;
destiny has determined that peace can’t last;
with so much to learn, I’ll rewind.
The Cardboard Breadman