07/19/2025
THE PAST, PRESENT AND FUTURE
Author: Jack Afonso
I miss the present, a quiet, passing grace,
A 'now' I breathed in, yet left no trace.
It was there, unfolding, vibrant and serene,
But my awareness, elsewhere, played unseen.
A sunlit window, opened wide and free,
Yet my gaze wandered, where it longed to be.
For while that moment gently came and went,
My spirit lingered, or was forward bent.
Remembering echoes, soft from yesterday's shore,
Or stacking hopes for what tomorrow held in store.
The golden 'was,' the bright 'will be' so near,
Left the 'is' untasted, blurred by doubt and fear.
And oh, I miss that future I conceived,
The gilded solace my own mind believed.
A perfect landscape, shimmering and vast,
Too finely tuned, too beautiful to last.
For idealized, it whispers with a sigh,
It seldom greets you, with that perfect sky.
So caught between the memory and the dream,
I watch the current of my life's own stream.
The present, gone, uncelebrated, blurred,
The future, sought, a phantom, whispered word.
A curious ache for what I couldn't hold,
A story of longing, endlessly retold.
