What Was Can Be Again....................
The past is dead but still alive in it's haunting, lingering way
We see tomorrow coming up while it is yet today
We think of things that we must do and things we should have done
And groan to think of work and toil when we could be having fun.
The little boy becomes a man, the man becomes a boy
Sitting in his rocking chair, bereft of childhood's toys
The little girl becomes a mother with children of her own
And then they leave to parents be and leave her all alone.
Cause and effect, response, react, reflexes unaware
We huddle closer to our heart to find some comfort there
The memories quiet in our minds till called to take us back
To happier days where we try to stay till the present's whip is cracked.
The days when we were beautiful, the days when we were loved
We treat those photographs like gold and hold them with kid gloves
We tell ourselves those days were real and these are but a dream
And sadly look in aging eyes knowing we 're not what we seem.
The lovers in us yearn for love, the singers, for the song
The painters long for palettes full and murals ten miles long
The teachers in us need to teach the lessons that we know
Could help the young still having fun to spare them from our woe.
But lessons learned must come from life and pain and joy and sorrow
We cannot hold to yesterday grasping for tomorrow
We cannot keep what pulled itself from our tightly clenching hands
They must be empty of all that was......... so that it can be again.
©By Voo
August 27, 2005
2 a.m.
