Time's Green Lima Beans

Walking down paths created by
Those memories that last
Through the bad days
As a panacea of their pain
Created and manifest as third eye rain
I find a pearl of escapism
At the bottom of the ocean
Where the pressure is greater
Turning my body into a diamond…
Hardened yet valued in this world.
I remember these paths created by the past
As a means of remembering me.
It is the compass that points in the direction of my spirit
It is the compass that points north on a four dimensional plane
Where ain’t nothin the same
As the eyes dictate
To far of a span of wisdom for the mind to even begin
To imitate.
It is the wisdom of He that is in you and I.
The true intimate.
I remember my childhood
As the memory has been adulterated by time
And daydreams of better days.
When my heart and all that physically accompanies it
Returned to my “childhood” of the bay
My eyes grasped a reality bringing closure to the soul
My past is the present history as the future told
And these will one day be the better days
As my childhood is presently for me.
I wait for the days
When I can once again remember me.

WaterMarmalade