We carry it around with us.
The shadows of previous centuries.
Like a loyal runaway, that never should have been
Somehow we all feel the bond, the connection, to
a universal past.
More than a shallow statement.
And truth that joins us with those that came
The way a rope joins two boats in the mist,
secretly and invisible.
Some how we feel the bond, dependent on it, to
have confidence in who we are.
We drag it though with us.
The remnants of our parents' time, and further.
A ball and chain, the weight that grows from
generation to generation.
Even if only on a subconscious level, we all feel
the echoes of the past pull on us.
To fulfill a predetermined oath.
To take part in the story that was written before
For our lives are like music carried on the wind,
our notes wont last forever.
Each note, of each sound, in each group, is
needed to make that symphony that flows.
We pull it along to the future with us.
To tomorrow and the new dawn, to our children and
our childrens children
As though time was stretch out from start to end,
like a chain hung from heaven to earth.
It is a chain that never ends, in which the links
are lives, dreams, hopes and futures.
To never forget, and never neglect
We must remember the past and listen to the
voices that whisper.
Its the same as holding on to a dream when
waking, we only get bits a pieces.
To study our past is to understand who and why we
When we look at a tree, we should always remember
With out it there would be nothing but dirt.