The answers

To the questions that haunt you,

Lie in the past.

Every secret

That is yet to be revealed,

Has its origin

In a moment,

That has come and gone.

You look ahead,

Placing your steps

Into the morrow

That shines with promise,

Hoping you’ll find bliss,

And an absence of sorrow

To cast a shadow

Over your progress.

And yet,

There is no surety

In the imaginary,

For that is the essence

Of the future –

It does not exist,

Except as an uncertain promise.

What has existed

Is the past,

Holding within each moment,

The recollection

Of an emotion,

Yours to fetch at will,

If you please.

Meanwhile, each moment in the present

That you step into,

Is already on its way

To yesterday.

Image Credit: Photo by Vintage RS on StockSnap