THE PAST IS LIKE DUST BLOWING IN THE WIND AT A GIVEN PLACE AND POINT IN TIME

The past is like dust blowing in the wind at a given place and point in time-
Never will all the particles be reassembled so as to again rhyme-

The dust flows over the landscape to join some other place as part of the soil-
Perhaps to be tilled by some farmer yet unborn in his daily toil-

The sun which shown on the dust in the wind will set and rise a changed entity-
To illuminate a new day, a new life, a new death, a totally different reality-

The pieces of the one past place and point in time can never be reassembled as one-
Once that particular moment, minute, hour and day is done-

So live each breath you take, each moment as if it were your very last-
Because of that moment as you exhale and your heart beats again it has become the past!

The Ole Dog!

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