The jeweled hues of dragonflies,
With wings of thin, spun glass,
Reflected in blue water’s skies,
Remind me: Time is slipping past.
If solipsism is the ultimate truth,
And all we have is self, and now,
Then, what purpose, the trials of youth?
Why remember, if it doesn’t matter, somehow?
I can feel the caress of a summer breeze,
Or hear the life in a hawk’s cried song.
Only pieces of the whole of reality, these.
But are they any less real when the moment’s gone?
Since the past makes us who we are, today,
How can only this moment in time be true?
Without a past foundation, I can honestly say,
I wouldn’t be me, and you wouldn’t be you.
For now, I’ll leave it to butterflies to debate.
Their time is short, and perhaps more precious.
They’ve no need to wonder about their fate,
Like I ponder how living in “just the now” affects us…
~ C.L.R. © 2007
I’m reminded of that saying, “Those who do not learn from the past are doomed to repeat it.”