vapour trails

Trails of what
We have left behind drag
At our conscious mind and tease
The monolithic iceberg underneath
As we walk, slowly gathering speed
Along the channel of ever forward
Moving time, changing the face of
Our deepest thoughts, our wholest
Selves, until we no longer
Recognise ourselves, in what
We say and do, only the wonderment
That is our place to hold, to see
To question and delve, picking apart
The past, as if it were a meal unwanted
As a child picks at tasteless white fish
Smelling the rank harsh randy flesh
Not wanting to bite, swallow, digest
So we pick through the remnants
Of our past, wishing partially at least
That we didn’t have to, that somehow
Someone else was at fault for any
Unhappiness, any duplicity or downright
Cruelty we may have visited on this world,
Only to find, if we are brave enough to look
To pick, to chew, swallow and digest
The truth of who we are, and where
We came from, that the worst is not
So bad, yet something different
Entirely, just us, as we are, raw,
Some scent of fish hanging in the
Stale air of remembering our lives
Sometimes hot, sometimes cold, but
Always true. If we can, look
Inside, see ourselves and our
Choices, for what they are we will
See the past is just a trail of long
Lost hopesdesiresdreamsfantasies dragging gossamer threads
Of distorted personal reality behind us
Until we no longer can disentangle
Ourselves from the truth, for we are
What we do. Maybe if we stop
For a moment, reflect, pick at
The rank meal we have made of
At least some of our lives we will
See that this is not the end, just
The beginning – that we are all one
That we can make a better tomorrow
One day at a time, one of us at a time,
One choice at a time, it is never
Too late.

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