Memories Poem by Reginald Reid

MEMORIES
How can my mind ever stem the flow of memories?
Those memories, which now like a torrent surge so powerfully reviving past times denied, ignored,
awoken by some trivial or dramatic event that heralds the arrival of some past hidden treasure, or doom.
Is it the music of a day, a time, an incidental sound or smell, the arrival of a friend or a message in some room?

How is this cascade of feelings set free to run unbridled, untameable, detailed, in me?
Why do desires spring out clutching for that unreachable goal which cannot be achieved? Lost treasure.
But besides them come the joys of recollecting better days that bring comfort and assurance. Not in equal measure.

Can time reverse, my mind might ask, and give a second chance?
Posing questions, if things were different would it go the way I seek or still end differently perchance?
How unreliable they can be, perceptions differ on the facts, desires confuse the truth it seems and lead a merry dance.
Only the telling in sharing can the test be run, and avoidance hosts denial.
Avoiding all the bad with focus on the good, the mind decides the way we live and how we should,
while memories taunt us of past misdeeds and guilt or raise us up where angels once have stood.
People, places, sights, and sounds, aromas in the air surround our souls
Dreaming helps the mind so we are told
While conjuring the memories of aspirations once denied will disappoint in cold frustration as we grow old.

Not only are we assaulted by our memories, we are frustrated and denied by these ghosts within
Recollection is not a right, but memory evasion reigns supreme when in times of need all is forgotten
Recall desired, even in need, is insufficient to recall, needing help when the reality of our time is gotten.
Know this my friend, that we will become just a memory when comes the end.




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