Sunday Scribblings 03-01-08: Time Machine

When Your Past Comes Back


Who is ever prepared for when the past comes for a visit?
It catches unawares, and often cold.
We marvel at the wonder, or stare in horror there
Wonder, when did we get so very old?
A treasure from our childhood, can turn us back to ten
And bring the simple joy of life anew
We remember carefree days, or a second froze in time
As captured in a fragile drop of dew.
A person we once knew, can walk right through a door
And hit us with emotions buried long
Seems I find these times, their entrance brings to mind,
the strains of a long ago time's song.
Whether bad or history good, the years have gone away,
And you remember the epiphany with them.
That moment that you met, or parted or fought or cried,
The time that was forgiven, or condemned
A scent, a smell, a perfume that wafts along the breeze,
and takes us somewhere once we used to live.
In someone’s house or someone’s heart, the aroma that we know,
And, oh, such comfort does it give.
The sights, the sounds the smells, all creep into our mind
And unlock what once we buried deep inside,
It travels to the heart and finds the source therein,
the place where these memories reside.
Who is ever prepared for when the past comes for a visit?
It catches unawares, and often cold.
We marvel at the wonder, or stare in horror there
Wonder, when did we get so very old?