Holding on to thoughts from before,
In the safe confines of our memories we store.
Always looking back when we realise,
What we are living is a happy disguise.
Life is really what has already happened -
A chest of moments into which we send
Every new story, every photograph,
Every tearful good-bye and joyous laugh.
Life cannot be what is yet to come,
We create memories like a guitar's strum -
The music isn't heard till the strings are played,
The memories aren't stored unless our senses are swayed
With feelings like joy, resplendence or agony.
Think of life like a happy cacophony -
A ship that has sailed and come ashore
Only when we can create and store no more.
In the safe confines of our memories we store.
Always looking back when we realise,
What we are living is a happy disguise.
Life is really what has already happened -
A chest of moments into which we send
Every new story, every photograph,
Every tearful good-bye and joyous laugh.
Life cannot be what is yet to come,
We create memories like a guitar's strum -
The music isn't heard till the strings are played,
The memories aren't stored unless our senses are swayed
With feelings like joy, resplendence or agony.
Think of life like a happy cacophony -
A ship that has sailed and come ashore
Only when we can create and store no more.
Life is a collection of memories from the past. What we look forward to in the future, can be called life only after they have happened. Life in it's entirety can be realised only when we exit it and stop making memories anymore. So quit worrying about what will happen and savour the memories that you are creating and those that you have already created.
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