Sunday, March 23, 2014

The Past

The past is not just a word for something that is behind us.
It is a song to be sung even when our voice is without sound.
My breath and heartbeat are sustained only because
My trail of tears,
Sobering realities,
And momentous bits of pure joy
Were revealed and respected.
Remnants of the past are woven into my very existence.
The past is so wonderfully preserved in my memory,
The lessons and psalms,
The stories and poems lamented my younger naïve self. 
The past does not serve as a punishment,
Nor does it serve to be a vessel of all that is muddy and tainted,
To be left on a shelf and forgotten.
That the future with it’s white-knuckled grip,
Will eventually drop all secrets to the floor,
In a splatter of shards and slivers,
Revealing us as human.
No longer indestructible creatures of perfection.
I live today for my past got me here,
I will live tomorrow because of today’s actions.
Tomorrow’s goal is never to undo what happened to us.
It is to investigate the source of all that pain embodies.
The pain is fear.
And fear is a future without love.

~Talvin C. Beville, Mar.2014