Space
I occupied
in the past
the present
is much about
the experience
of reminiscing-
what went before
could never be re-grasped
yet the images persist
and time it seeks
to overcome and outlast--

nothing would be gained
as is commonly explained
but how could a bird exist
if its wings were clipped?
I am the product cast
and forged in the past
could not otherwise be
that something which is  'me'-

the present is the bridge
spanning years gone
to what has become
an amalgam that goes on
to un unknowable outcome
and I couldn't but think that time
is a man-made phenomenon
that exists in my imagination
and I so often ask:
am I but an orchestration
of a nameless and cold continuum?

I am not dead
so I drift and live
doubting if
I were not a phantom
in a realm
beyond body and mind
reality is not easy
to grasp
even harder
to believe.