The Essence Of Memory

What is this mystery called memory:
how can a past thought last;
many of them, still live in infamy;
others, have gone on a fast.

What is it that makes us remember;
words or deeds, from yesterday;
some even become a dissembler;
their memory; different each day.

I drive down a road where I used to reside;
my mind, instantly, makes connection;
memories spill out; they can no longer hide;
I recall my life’s first rejection;

What is the trigger that focuses my mind;
on sadness from a long time ago;
how is this essence of memory designed;
frozen memories; falling like snow?

Today’s computers give more than a hint;
a mere link; connects to a separate page;
memories are links; thought’s blueprint;
forcing our minds to engage.

Merely a word, picture or thought;
mundane as they can be;
catapults us, to what destiny brought;
destroying my serenity.

Yet, memory has a more noble purpose;
reminding us what we used to be;
the essence of memory; hidden neath the surface:
God’s truth shall set us free.

Monty 9/14/23. # 1,791