A poem about being present
The memories that you weave
into the cloth of recollection
bring you no comfort
and yet you choose
to tailor them into a splendid coat
believing it will bring you comfort
and wrapping yourself
in this garment of the past
you imagine it is who you are
but it is nothing more than an illusion
and instead of fending off life’s storms
it keeps you cold
wraps you up in difficult times,
so that even in the present moment
when the Sun shines
and all is well
you believe it is raining.